


Demons Run When a Good Man Goes to War

by ladyxgreywolf



Series: Evermore [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dragon Age: Inquisition Spoilers, Earthborn Inquisitor, F/M, Modern Girl in Thedas, Multi, Other, Trespasser, Trespasser Spoilers, Will possibly get a sequel once we get more info on DA4
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-07 14:17:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 35
Words: 139,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12234603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyxgreywolf/pseuds/ladyxgreywolf
Summary: Kathleen "Lea" Crowley did not expect to find herself thrust into a new world on her first proper work day in six months. Or to wake up with a strange mark on her hand. Or to be handed a knife and asked to fight against monsters. But, at the moment, there's not much else she can do.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've become way too addicted to this game recently. I blame my sister!  
> The story will follow at least the main plot of Dragon Age: Inquisition, and I will include some of the side quests/personal quests as well, and will conclude with events from Trespasser. And I do have an idea for a continuation, but I'm not sure I'll write that until we know more of DA4 or when that came actually comes out.
> 
> (and yes; the title is from Doctor Who)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“She has a mark as well!” a man’s voice had called above her head._   
>  _“What?” a woman had replied, her voice accented. “How is that possible?”_   
>  _“I don’t know”, the man had replied. “Herald, what say you?”_   
>  _“Bring her with us to Haven”, another woman had said. “She needs a healer.”_

Kathleen Crowley had looked forward to this year. She truly had. After being unemployed for six months, having proper work to do five days per week felt like a relief. Not just because it meant she would have no trouble paying her rent on time – though, to be perfectly honest, she had not had that much trouble paying it on time even without a job, thanks to her savings and her natural skill when it came to maintaining her own personal economy. It was because it meant she would have something to do. Something to activate her brain. Keep her on her toes. Make her find a purpose again.

     This… well, it ticked all of those boxes – except the one about paying rent – but it was hardly what she had expected.

     However, being pulled from one world to another through means of magic was probably far from what anyone expected to happen while they walked to work.

     One moment, she had been walking down the road from the bus stop closest to her new work. The next she had felt as if someone had punched her in the stomach, then started to rip her limbs from her body. Especially her left arm and hand had pained her.

     And then, just like that, she had fallen onto rough, uneven ground, bruising herself even more. Someone had grabbed her and rolled her over onto her back, making her cry out in pain.

     “She has a mark as well!” a man’s voice had called above her head.

     “What?” a woman had replied, her voice accented. “How is that possible?”

     “I don’t know”, the man had replied. “Herald, what say you?”

     “Bring her with us to Haven”, another woman had said. “She needs a healer.”

     Kathleen – well, Lea, usually – remembered little of the journey to Haven from wherever she had landed. She did not know if it had been short or long; the throbbing pain that seemed to emanate from her left hand had made her drift in and out of consciousness. She had not woken up properly until they were already there, in a small room located in what she later discovered was the Chantry. A church of sorts.

     Her mind had gone over what had happened over and over, until she had settled for the only logical conclusion as to how she had ended up here, in this place, dressed in new clothes and with a strange, green mark on her left hand. She had somehow been moved from her world to this other one – some medieval fantasy one, by the looks of it – and however illogical, however lucid, panicking would do her no good.

     Thus, by now, when someone actually came to fetch her from the room, she felt fairly calm about the situation. Fairly calm.

     The servant had pointy ears, which made Lea think he might be an elf – but unlike the elves she had read about in fantasy books like _The Lord of the Rings_ , he seemed very… placid. Not at all the ethereal, all-knowing, immortal beings she had imagined. Perhaps in this world they were not elves – or elves were very different.

     “Where are we going?” she asked as they exited the room and walked through what was the main hall of the Chantry.

     “The Herald of Andraste and the Lady Seeker asked to see you at once when you awoke”, the servant replied.

     “Alright, and who are they?”

     The servant’s eyes widened.

     “You truly do not know who the Herald of Andraste is?”

     “Sorry, mate, I don’t even know who Andraste is”, Lea replied. The servant looked very much like he was about to have a stroke.

     “I’m sorry”, Lea apologized. “Please, just take me to them and I won’t be bothering you anymore.”

     The servant quickened his pace after that, leading her out of the Chantry to what was the building’s courtyard – which overlooked a village and a large army camp below. It was night and the world was covered in a blanket of snow, the air tasted fresh and with a hint of pine. Lea was not certain she had ever breathed in air this fresh before – most likely not, considering the pollutions back on Earth.

     “There they are”, the servant asked and pointed at two women standing at the edge of the courtyard, overlooking what seemed to be a celebration in the camp below. The servant then made a sign that Lea guessed was meant to ward off evil and ran away. She forced herself to square her shoulders and march up to the two women.

     “I believe you asked for me?” she said. The two women turned around to face her. Both of them looked human and were somewhere between twenty and thirty – the same age as her. The one on the right had short, dark hair and dark, almond shaped eyes, a scar running along her left cheekbone and another just below her right eye. The woman beside her had a more slender, paler face, blonde hair pulled back in a messy pony tail and violet eyes that studied Lea curiously. Both wore armour – and neither seemed inclined to wear a dress instead of trousers and sturdy boots. And the one on the left…

     “You have the same mark as me”, Lea said with a frown and raised her left hand in front of herself for comparison.

     “So it would seem”, the blonde replied.

     “How did you get it?” the dark haired one asked. “Do you know?”

     Lea recognized their voices. They were the two women she had heard upon arriving in this world. The dark haired one was the one with the accent.

     “I don’t know”, Lea answered. “I just… had it when I came to this world.”

     “This world?” the blonde asked with a frown.

     “Yeah”, Lea said and ran her hand through her hair, “I’m not from around here. I’m from a world called Earth and a country called England – and I’m currently still trying to convince myself I’m just not having a delirious dream.”

     The two women shared a look, before the blonde let out a small puff of laughter.

     “Considering everything else that has happened, I’m not sure why I would find this strange”, she said. Then, she held out her hand towards Lea.

     “I’m Evelyn Trevelyan. This is Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast.”

     “I assume you’re the one they call the Herald of Andraste, then”, Lea said and accepted the hand.

     “I am”, Evelyn said with a small grimace. “Not quite used to the title yet.”

     “What’s your name?” Cassandra asked.

     “Kathleen Crowley”, Lea replied, “though people call me Lea. It’s easier – and I had a classmate called Kathy, so that just became confusing.”

     She looked out across the camp.

     “Mind filling me in on what’s going on? And where I actually am?”

     “This is Haven”, Cassandra replied, “and the people you see here are the Inquisition. An organization meant to restore peace and order to Thedas.”

     “Thedas?” Lea said, frowning slightly. “Is that the world or the country? I know this place is called Haven, but…”

     “Thedas is the world”, Evelyn replied. “Haven is located in the western parts of Ferelden.”

     Lea nodded.

     “I assume the celebration below means the Inquisition succeeded? That there’s peace?”

     “We recently closed the Breach”, Evelyn replied. “It was… a gateway, between this world and the place where demons live. We call it the Fade.”

     Lea turned to look at her and Cassandra.

     “Why do I get the feeling that neither of you believe that this actually means peace?” she asked.

     “You’re observant”, Evelyn mused.

     “We have received reports of disturbing events throughout Thedas”, Cassandra replied. “The people of the Inquisition, in general, do not know that we still need to address those – and they do deserve to celebrate that the Breach was sealed by the Herald. But no; I do not believe we yet have peace.”

     She turned to look down at the celebrations.

     “The immediate danger is gone”, she said, “and, for some, that also means the need for the Inquisition. We must be wary.”

     Lea opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off by the sound of bells – and the increasing sound of marching feet.

     “I think you just might have found that”, she said as the celebration abruptly stopped below them and lights appeared through the mountain pass not far away from the village’s outer walls.

     “Forces approaching!” a man dressed in fine armour called, hurrying through the camp. “To arms!”

     “We must get to the gate”, Cassandra said, while hurrying down the stairs leading down from the courtyard to the camp. Evelyn glanced at Lea, then pulled a knife from her belt.

     “Can you fight?”

     Lea took the knife and stared at it.

     “I honestly do not think I have a choice in the matter”, she replied. “Stick them with the pointy end, right?”

     Evelyn gave her a bitter smile as they hurried after Cassandra, pushing through crowds of people running this way and that, either to find weapons and armour or to find a safe place to hide.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Are you a telepath?” she asked. “Because I’m pretty sure you just read bits and pieces of my mind.”_   
>  _“I’m… no one”, Cole replied and turned away. “I’m here to help.”_   
>  _Lea pursed her lips in thought. Cole was… an oddity. Much more so than anything else she had seen here so far – including the green mark on her hand. He did not seem quite human._   
>  _“If you want to help”, she said, “then don’t say those things where people can hear them. They need to listen to me – and if you make it sound like coming with me might lead to death, they won’t.”_

As they reached the gates, they met up with the man who had called the Inquisition to arms.

     “Cullen?” Cassandra said, her voice an unspoken question. The man looked grim.

     “One watch guard gave a report”, he said. “It’s a massive force; the bulk of it is approaching fast.”

     “Under what banner?” a woman with dark skin asked. She wore no armour or weapons, but the way she spoke made Lea think she was still an important figure here. The man – Cullen – shook his head, still looking grim.

     “None.”

     “None?” the woman asked, eyes widening. The doors in front of them shook as something smashed against them.

     “I can’t come in unless you open!” a man’s voice called. He sounded desperate. Evelyn ran towards the doors and pushed them open – and Lea found herself following.

     Outside stood a single soldier from the approaching army, his features obscured by a helmet. Before he could take a step towards them, however, he let out a gurgling sound and crumpled to the ground, revealing another man behind him.

     This man wore no armour. His clothes were tattered, his body thin, and a large, wide-brimmed had obscured his face. In his right hand he held the knife he had stabbed the soldier with.

     “I’m Cole”, he said, looking up without truly showing his face. Lea heard steps behind her and glanced up to see Cullen come to a halt next to her, while Evelyn stepped forward towards the strange man.

     “I came to warn you”, Cole continued. “To help. People are coming to hurt you. You probably already know…”

     “What is this?” Evelyn asked. “What is going on?”

     “The Templars come to kill you”, Cole replied. Cullen stepped forward.

     “The Templars?” he demanded to know. Cole jumped away from him.

     “Is this the Order’s response to us recruiting mages?” Cullen continued, sounding enraged. “Attacking blindly?”

     “The Red Templars went to the Elder One”, Cole said, then turned towards Evelyn again. “You know him? He knows you. You took his mages.”

     Lea tried to make sense of what she was hearing – but found that impossible. She had no background information regarding this world other than what Evelyn and Cassandra had told her before – and none of that had involved things like mages, Templars or some Elder One.

     “There”, Cole said and turned towards the approaching army, pointing at a rocky outcrop. Lea watched as a man walked up to stand on it, overlooking the army pouring forth towards Haven. No, that was wrong. He was not a man. Not quite, anyway. From this distance she could not tell exactly how he looked, but his silhouette did not look human. Not quite, anyway.

     “That’s the Elder One?” Cullen asked. Cole turned towards them again.

     “He’s very angry that you took his mages.”

     “Cullen”, Evelyn demanded, “give me a plan. Anything!”

     “Haven’s no fortress”, Cullen replied. “If we are to withstand this monster, we must control the battle.”

     “Is there an escape route?” Lea asked. They all turned towards her.

     “I saw a lot of people not dressed for battle in there”, she said, “and they need to find a way to safety. The same for us if we have to call a retreat; that army’s blocking the pass I’m guessing is the usual route to enter and exit Haven.”

     Cullen gave her what looked like an appreciative look, but in the darkness it was hard to tell for sure.

     “You’re the one who appeared through the Breach when the Herald closed it”, he said.

     “Ah, so that’s where I appeared?” Lea asked. “I didn’t know.”

     “Lea”, Evelyn said, “lead the people who cannot fight back up to the Chantry. It’s the safest place for now.”

     Lea hesitated. The Chantry lay above the rest of Haven and it looked like the most stable building, but to lead everyone there… it could turn into a death trap. Still, she nodded and turned on her heel. As she headed back inside the doors, she heard Cullen give orders to the soldiers.

     “Auschwitz”, Cole said, appearing so suddenly by her side that she jumped away from him.

     “Jesus Christ!” she exclaimed. She gathered her wits, recalled what he had just said, and frowned.

     “How do you know that name?” she asked.

     “A death trap”, Cole said, “a house of death, a place where people suffered. So, so many people died.”

     Lea felt her frown deepen and stepped closer to the man, peering beneath his hat at his face.

     “Are you a telepath?” she asked. “Because I’m pretty sure you just read bits and pieces of my mind.”

     “I’m… no one”, Cole replied and turned away. “I’m here to help.”

     Lea pursed her lips in thought. Cole was… an oddity. Much more so than anything else she had seen here so far – including the green mark on her hand. He did not seem quite human.

     “If you want to help”, she said, “then don’t say those things where people can hear them. They need to listen to me – and if you make it sound like coming with me might lead to death, they won’t.”

     Cole seemed to consider that, as if the logic of it was beyond him.

     “But it’s not the truth”, he said after a while.

     “It might be”, Lea replied. “Humans have a way of always thinking of the worst things that could happen before considering the better possibilities. It’s how we’ve survived this long.”

     Cole did not reply. In fact when she turned around to look at him again, he was gone. There was no sign of him anywhere.

     “Inquisition!” she called, running halfway up the stairs to the Chantry. “Inquisition! Haven is under attack by someone who calls themselves the Elder One. Everyone who can fight, make your way to the gates, right now! The rest of you come with me to the Chantry.”

     “Who are you?” someone asked in the crowd. “You bear the Herald’s mark! Has Andraste blessed you too?”

     Lea looked down at her hand again, her mind whirring.

     “Andraste sent me to your aid, just like she sent your Herald”, she replied, “and just like your Herald, I will fight, but my battle will be in the Chantry. To save the lives of those wounded on the battlefield. Those who come with me, those who cannot fight with swords or bows or axes, I will need your help there. We will make sure that the Inquisition is victorious!”

     To her surprise, a cheer rose from the crowd, which then split up into groups; those who would fight in the battle below, and those who would come with her. She was still reeling with the fact that they had listened while they prepared beds and ripped sheets into bandages, while healers prepared their herbal remedies and the first few injured were brought inside.

     How long they worked before the ground shook, she did not know, but the shaking made them all stop. Someone ran to the door to look outside and gave a shout.

     “It’s an avalanche!” he shouted. Lea ran up to join him, eyes wide as she watched the snow tumble from the mountain to the left of the pass, right down onto the army. Burying them.

     A cheer rose from the people around her and from those fighting below, as they suddenly realized they were in majority. That they could win. Then a screech made them all look up into the sky. A large, black shadow swept through the clouds, aiming a flaming ball of fire at a trebuchet outside the walls. It exploded.

     “That’s… a dragon”, Lea breathed.

     “No”, Cole said, suddenly next to her, “that is an archdemon. I saw them in the Fade; they looked like that.”

     People started murmuring amongst themselves, eyes wide, faces drawn with fear.

     “Can Haven withstand an archdemon?” Lea asked.

     “People are scared”, Cole replied. “They think they will die. The demon will burn the Chantry and they will die.”

     “Cole”, Lea said sharply, “what did I say before about not saying such things? Panic will not help.”

     She turned around to the rest of the people in the Chantry.

     “Help the injured”, she ordered. “Those of you who find yourself without a task, scour the building for provisions. If we have to flee, we have to be prepared.”

     She was not sure if fleeing would be possible – considering she did not know if there was another way out of here – but she could not say that. They had to believe she had a way out for all of them.

     A man stumbled up the steps to the courtyard. In the blink of an eye, Cole was by his side, supporting him. The man wore no armour, only a white and red robe that Lea had seen a woman called Mother Giselle wear inside the Chantry while helping with the injured. He must be a priest of some sort.

     “The Chantry”, the man gasped, “is your shelter. Get… everyone… inside.”

     There was blood on the side of his stomach and the stain grew with every step he took.

     “He needs help!” Lea called to a healer inside and helped Cole support the man.

     “No”, the man replied and shook his head at her, while Cole placed him on a chair near the entrance to the holy house. “No, I’m… it’s too late… for me.”

     “That doesn’t mean we won’t try to save your life”, Lea replied, then turned towards the door. More and more people poured in, many coming straight from the battlefield. They were retreating.

     “Herald!”

     Though she did not know why she listened to that title, Lea turned to face Cullen as he hurried inside, supporting a man with an injured leg.

     “Where’s Evelyn?” she asked and hurried to meet him, as a pair of soldiers took the injured man from him.

     “On her way”, Cullen replied, his eyes scanning the hall. By now people were running back and forth, obeying her previous orders of preparing to flee and help those injured.

     “Our position is not good”, Cullen said, keeping his voice low. “The dragon stole back any time we earned through the avalanche.”

     “It’s an archdemon”, Cole said again and seemed about to repeat the same phrases he had spoken before. Lea held out a hand to silence him.

     “I don’t care what…” Cullen begun, then drew a deep breath and steadied his voice. “It’s cutting a path for the remainder of that army – and they’ll kill everyone in Haven.”     “The Elder One does not care about the village”, Cole protested. “He only wants the Herald!”

     “If it’ll save these people, it can have me”, Evelyn said, walking in through the door to the Chantry. Cole shook his head slightly.

     “It won’t. He wants to kill you. No one else matters, but he’ll crush them – kill them anyway. I don’t like him.”

     “You don’t…” Cullen begun.

     “Focus”, Lea interrupted. “We need to get these people to safety. How?”

     Cullen shook his head.

     “There are no tactics to make this survivable. Not for all of us. The only thing that slowed them down was the avalanche.”

     “So if we cause another”, Lea filled in, “we might buy more time.”

     “How?” Evelyn asked. “We need an escape route – and there does not seem to be one. We’d have to bury Haven in order to defeat that thing.”

     “At least we get to decide how we die”, Cullen said. “Many do not get that choice.”

     They looked at each other in silence. Lea found herself wondering if dying here meant she would simply return to Earth, or remain dead there as well.

     “Yes, that”, Cole suddenly whispered, making her and the others turn towards where he knelt next to the dying man in white and red. “Chancellor Roderick can help. He needs to say it before he dies.”

     The dying man – Chancellor Roderick – looked up at them, his eyes full of pain.

     “There is a path”, he said, his voice barely audible. “You wouldn’t know it, unless you made the Summer Pilgrimage… as I have.”

     He pushed himself to his feet, his left hand going to cover the wound in his abdomen.

     “The people… can escape. She must have shown me. Andraste… must have shown me so I could…”

     “What are you on about, Roderick?” Evelyn asked. Roderick had to take several raspy breaths before he could continue.

     “It was whim that I walked the path”, he said. “I did not mean to start… it was overgrown. But… with so many in the Conclave dead… to be the only one who remembers… I don’t know…”

     He paused to draw another series of raspy breaths, his eyes watering with the pain he was in.

     “If this simple memory can save us”, he said, “this could be more than mere accident. You could be more.”

     Evelyn glanced at Lea, then at Cullen. Lea followed her gaze.

     “What about it, Cullen?” Evelyn asked. “Will it work?”

     “Possibly”, Cullen agreed, “if he shows us the path. But what of your escape?”

     Evelyn turned away from them. The gesture was not difficult to read – and it made Lea’s blood turn to ice.

     Evelyn did not expect to survive.

     “You’ll find a way”, Lea tried. Evelyn glanced back, then nodded. Cullen hesitated only a moment before he turned to address the rest of the people still in the hall.

     “Inquisition, follow Chancellor Roderick. Move!”

     Cole placed the dying man’s arm over his shoulders and helped him walk through the hall.

     “Herald”, Roderick said, his voice somewhat stronger this time, “if the Inquisition is meant for this… if _you_ are meant for this… I pray for you.”

     “How long do you need?” Evelyn asked, turning towards Cullen again once the majority of the people had left.

     “Until we’re above the treeline”, Cullen replied. “If we are to have a chance – if _you_ are to have a chance – then let that thing hear you loud and clear.”

     He gave a slight bow before hurrying after the rest of the people. Lea placed a hand on Evelyn’s arm.

     “In theatre”, she said, “we don’t wish each other good luck. It’s a bad omen. So instead… break a leg out there.”

     “I’ll break his legs”, Evelyn replied with a hint of a smile. It quickly vanished. Instead she took Lea’s left hand and lifted it slightly.

     “You bear the same mark as me”, she said. “If I don’t make it out alive… you’ll take my place. You’ll be the Herald.”

     “How?”

     “If I knew, I’d tell you. But it seems you did well up here. The people listened to you.”

     Evelyn forced a smile again, before walking backwards towards the door.

     “Break a leg”, she said. Lea smiled as well.

     “Break a leg.”

* * *

Just like Chancellor Roderick had said earlier, the path they set out on was mostly overgrown. People stumbled and fell, but they moved forward, a long line of people and horses and wagons and big creatures that looked similar to rhinos. They had managed to save most of what had been the Inquisition’s camp at Haven – which meant they should be able to create a suitable camp wherever they ended up. But in the cold mountains… Lea was not sure they would be able to keep the injured alive.

     As she had been one of the last to leave Haven, she took up a place at the back of the line, making sure people moved as quickly as they could despite their injuries. She heard others urge them on further along the path as well.

     “Hurry! Hurry! Make for the treeline!”

     Every now and then she looked back down at Haven, but from this distance it was impossible to tell what was going on. The village was fire and smoke. How would they be able to signal Evelyn? Would she even see their signal?

     “Herald!”

     It was the second time Cullen had called her that – and people turned around at the sound.

     “You know I’m not…” she begun.

     “You have the mark”, he interrupted, coming to a halt in front of her. “Evelyn’s a Herald of Andraste – and so are you.”

     He looked back up along the line of people.

     “We’re almost there”, he said.

     “What will we use to send a signal?” Lea asked. “A flare of sorts?”

     “Yes”, Cullen replied and held out a tube. It looked like any sort of emergency flare, Lea thought.

     “I’ll do it”, she said. “You lead the rest of these people somewhere safe and set up a camp. As far as you can make it.”

     Cullen frowned.

     “You do not intend to follow right away?”

     “I’m going to find Evelyn.”

     She took the flare from his hand and turned around, running back along the line.

     “Herald! Lea!”

     “Go!” she called back at him. “Get them to safety!”

     She ran until she found a good place to watch the Inquisition walk the hidden path. Until she could clearly see when they had made it past the treeline, without being there herself. When the line of people grew thin and then vanished, she counted to five. Then she lit the flare and sent it up into the sky.

     She watched as the rock flung from the trebuchet hit the mountain above Haven and sent snow tumbling down onto the village in a massive avalanche, covering it in a layer of white. She saw the shadow of the Elder One and the archdemon fly away – apparently they would not be so easily killed – but they did not aim in the same direction the Inquisition had fled. Hopefully this meant they would be safe for now.

     As the cloud settled, Lea tried to see if she could spot someone else in the snow. A woman.

     She could not.

     “Come on, Evelyn”, she muttered. “Come on.”

     She waited another ten seconds before she started making her way back down the mountain side. Her mind was working hard to figure out a possible way Evelyn could have survived. Roderick had known one secret path leading from Haven – perhaps there was another. It was a mountain village. Back home, mountain villages – historically – meant some sort of fertile soil or…

     “A mine”, she said to herself. She scanned her surroundings, looking for caves in the mountains. If there was an old mine somewhere, there would be ways in and out of it. Not all of them would be sealed. At least, she hoped they would not be.

     She kept the path the Inquisition had taken within sight as she scanned the mountain ranges, running along what looked like old paths and trails. It grew colder with every step she took, she was hungry and exhausted, but her determination kept her going. Evelyn had been right; if she did not survive, Lea might be seen as her… heir. They had the same mark, after all, and that seemed to mean something important here.

     Hours must have passed when she finally found a cave entrance and saw the signs of mining along the walls – old supporter beams, rusty pickaxes and rough steps leading down into the darkness.

     “Evelyn!” she tried to call, her teeth clattering together. “Evelyn, are you down there?”

     She carefully made her way down the steps into a mining corridor – and saw someone walking towards her. No, not walking. Stumbling.

     “Evelyn!”

     Lea ran forward and grabbed the other woman before she fell. Her breath came in short gasps. There was a wound on her right shoulder – a stab wound, going right through her.

     How long had she been down here? How much blood had she lost? How had she not already died from it?

     “I… found… you”, Evelyn gasped.

     “And now you survive”, Lea ordered her and half dragged, half carried her back up the steps. “You survive and live and you continue what you started, alright?”

     “I… won’t…”

     “Shut up.”

     They made it out of the mine and Lea quickly looked around, deciding on the best way to get on the Inquisition’s path.

     “You hold on, alright?” she said to Evelyn. “Stay with me. We’ll be at camp soon and we’ll get you patched up and you’ll feel fine tomorrow and…”

     “Lea…”

     Evelyn slumped against her shoulder. She did not dare check if she was simply unconscious – or if she had died. All she could think of was moving forward.

     After another hour or so of walking, a mountain pass appeared ahead of them, the snow still marked by the feet that had recently run that way, despite the fresh layer that had fallen. Evelyn felt cold, though Lea insisted she was imagining it. She also insisted to herself that she was imagining the waves of pain running up and down her left arm, far more intense than before. But she hoped she was not imagining the smoke and light on the other side of the pass – and that it meant a camp, not an area set aflame.

     At the sight of the camp below, she collapsed in the snow. It was them. The Inquisition. They were safe. They had made it.

     “Evelyn”, she said, looking over at her companion for the first time since their exit from the cave. The sight made her throat close up. Evelyn’s beautiful violet eyes were staring up at the sky, unblinking, and her lips were blue from the cold.

     She was dead.

     “Evelyn!” Lea heard herself scream as if from a distance. “Evelyn! Evelyn!”

     “It’s them!”

     Cullen. She heard him approach, heard him run up to where she desperately tried to shake Evelyn awake, even though she knew – logically – that it was too late. She felt him grab her by the shoulders and pull her away from the unblinking woman’s body – and how she had no strength left to resist. She allowed him to bundle her up in his fur coat and carry her down to the camp, while others brought down Evelyn. Someone gave her a drink of something warm and, slowly, she drifted off.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“My apologies. It is true we have not officially met; I kept that mark from spreading and killing you upon your arrival, just like I did for the late Lady Trevelyan. My name is Solas.”_   
>  _“Solas”, she repeated, trying to commit the name to memory. “Right. And… you’re a mage?”_   
>  _“Yes. An elven mage.”_   
>  _“So you are an elf? I wasn’t sure. I mean, you behave the way I thought elves would behave, but the others I’ve met have been… different.”_

It was still dark around her when she stirred awake to the sound of arguing. Well, dark as in night. There were fires all around the camp to keep people warm – thus the darkness was kept at bay. She was on a bed in a tent, covered in blankets to keep her temperature up, and there was a set of armour neatly placed on the seat next to her.

     Evelyn’s armour.

     She sat up, staring at the armour. There was no sign of Evelyn’s body – perhaps it had already been buried, or burned. She did not know how funerals were done here. But her things had been placed here. For her – Lea – to use.

     The arguing grew louder and she turned to look out of the tent’s opening. Cullen, Cassandra, the woman with dark skin and another woman with a purple shawl covering her head stood by the fire outside. Their voices rose and fell, heated, angry.

     “You need to rest”, a voice to Lea’s left said, making her turn her head in that direction. Mother Giselle gave her a gentle smile.

     “How long have they been arguing?” Lea asked, turning back towards the entrance. She could not ask about Evelyn. The mere thought of it – what her death meant – made her tremble.

     “A long time”, Mother Giselle. “A luxury they have thanks to you and the late Lady Trevelyan. The enemy did not follow us – and with time to doubt, we turn to blame.”

     “They’re… blaming each other? For what?”

     “For the deaths of those we lost. For Haven. For not knowing what might happen and being more prepared for it. The reasons are many.”

     “Well, fighting amongst themselves won’t solve anything”, Lea muttered and sat up so that she could wrap her arms around her knees.

     “Wise words”, Mother Giselle said with a nod. Lea watched as the quartet outside split up. Cassandra marched in the direction of another tent, slamming her hands down on a table covered in maps. Cullen walked off towards a group of soldiers. The two women she had no name for yet remained, but sat down far apart from one another.

     “Do we know where that creature is now?” Lea asked after a while. “I saw him fly off in the opposite direction from here, but…”

     “No”, Mother Giselle replied, “we do not know where he is. Nor do we know where we are. It is possible that he does not know, either, or that, because of Lady Trevelyan’s death, he no longer cares.”

     Lea looked at her left hand. The mark seemed more prominent now, even though the glow was less intense than it had been during the attack. It was as if it had been one of two – and with Evelyn dead, the full power of whatever it was now came to rest in her palm.

     “Our leaders struggle because of what we survivors witnessed”, Mother Giselle said. “We saw our defender stand – and fall. And then we saw you return with her body, her mark etched on your hand. The girl brought through the Breach from a different world.”

     Lea swung her feet down onto the ground.

     “She was alive when I found her”, she said. “I should have…”

     “She did what she had to do”, Mother Giselle replied, her voice soft and kind. “As did you. But the people know what they saw – or, perhaps, what they needed to see. The Maker works both in the moment and how it is remembered. Belief is a strong force, no?”

     Lea gripped the bedframe. She had never looked upon herself as religious. Sure, she liked visiting churches and celebrated various holidays that were, supposedly, Christian, and she had been baptised as a baby. But this…

     “I don’t see how what I believe matters anymore. That thing… we can’t destroy it using just hope and belief.”

     She rose and walked over to the entrance to the tent, leaning against the wooden pole that held up the fabric above her head. Her legs felt stiff, but other than that she felt fine. Whatever had made her sleep before had helped clear her head, along with getting warm again. At least, enough to think this through.

     She had Evelyn’s mark. Evelyn’s armour. She had even seen Evelyn’s bow and second knife – the one she had not already given her – by the wall of the tent. She had received everything, as if she was Evelyn’s heir.

     Including the Inquisition.

     This was a nightmare.

     She watched the two women by the fire. Neither looked up at her. She glanced towards Cassandra and Cullen, but neither seemed inclined to turn. There was no sign of Cole. Or Chancellor Roderick. Was he still alive?

     How many had they actually lost?

     “Shadows fall and hope has fled. Steel your heart, the dawn will come.”

     Lea frowned and turned, watching Mother Giselle approach. She was singing. Lea had no idea what the song was, but it sounded… well, like a psalm of sorts. Very different from the ones she had heard in churches, but it had the same way of sounding like it belonged in a grand hall. Not a camp in the middle of the mountains.

     “The night is long and the path is dark. Look to the sky, for one day soon the dawn will come.”

     Looking back out into the camp, Lea saw that everyone had turned in their direction. Everyone was listening. Everyone – except for her – knew this song.

     “The shepherd’s lost and his home is far. Keep to the stars, the dawn will come.”

     The woman with the purple shawl joined in, her voice bright and clear. Then others did as well, walking towards them. Soldiers, healers, commoners. Everyone.

     “The night is long and the path is dark.”

     Lea heard Cullen’s voice join in the song and watched him close his eyes as he sang.

     “Look to the sky, for one day soon the dawn will come.”

     Lea nearly jumped back when people started to kneel before her, still singing. Hailing her as their supposed saviour. Evelyn’s heir. The new Herald of Andraste.

     “Bare your blade and raise it high. Stand your ground, the dawn will come. The night is long and the path is dark. Look to the sky, for one day soon the dawn will come.”

     As the song finished, people suddenly smiled. There was hope in their eyes. Cullen walked over to Cassandra and seemed to sheepishly apologize, something the woman returned in the same manner. They were joined by the two women who had been seated by the fire.

     “An army needs more than an enemy”, Mother Giselle said as the camp started chattering, “it needs a cause. And a leader.”

     She walked off into the crowd, leaving Lea standing there, still unsure of what to do next.

     “A word?”

     The voice behind her back made her jump, but this time it was not Cole who had snuck up on her. This man had pointy ears, sharp eyes and a shaved head. He walked off without her giving a reply, forcing her to follow. They walked out of the camp, out of earshot from everyone else, and the man waved his hand at a metallic staff stuck in the snow. Blue flames immediately erupted around it, illuminating the otherwise darkened area.

     “A wise woman worth heading”, the man said, nodding slightly at the camp. “Her kind understand the moments that unify a cause – or fracture it.”

     “So it would seem”, Lea replied. “I’m… sorry, but who are you, exactly?”

     The man smiled slightly.

     “My apologies. It is true we have not officially met; I kept that mark from spreading and killing you upon your arrival, just like I did for the late Lady Trevelyan. My name is Solas.”

     “Solas”, she repeated, trying to commit the name to memory. “Right. And… you’re a mage?”

     “Yes. An elven mage.”

     “So you are an elf? I wasn’t sure. I mean, you behave the way I thought elves would behave, but the others I’ve met have been… different.”

     Solas frowned.

     “The way you thought elves would behave?”

     “In my world elves are only part of stories”, Lea explained, “and they’re always these… wise, all-knowing, sometimes immortal beings who understand the way the world works thanks to their connection to nature. You act like that, but the others… they seem…”

     “Broken”, Solas filled in. She nodded.

     “It is a long story”, he continued, “but the elves have suffered a lot here in Thedas. Most know little of any other way of living, other than allowing humans to walk all over them. Some have found a way to live independently, but they are far from the elves of ancient times. Which was what I wished to discuss with you.”

     He looked at the blue flames for a while before he spoke again.

     “The Elder One’s name is Corypheus. He claims to have been a magister of the Tevinter Imperium – and his goal is to restore this imperium to what it once was.”

     “How do you know this?” Lea asked with a frown.

     “After you brought Lady Trevelyan’s body here, I walked into the Fade to search for her spirit. I found it – and she shared her last memories with me, in order to make sure you and the Inquisition learned what she found out while fighting Corypheus. Then, she passed on.”

     “So you can talk to the dead?”

     “To the spirits I meet in the Fade”, Solas replied. “Occasionally, those are the dead, but most who die only linger in the Fade for a short period of time. As did Lady Trevelyan.”

     Lea nodded slightly.

     “Alright, so what else did she tell you?”

     “Corypheus carried an orb and used its power against Lady Trevelyan, in an attempt to remove the mark – the Anchor – from her hand”, Solas replied. “This orb? It is an ancient elven artefact – as was the power it allowed him to wield. Corypheus used the orb to open the Breach. Unlocking it must have caused the explosion that destroyed the Conclave held in the Temple of Sacred Ashes. They held peace talks there, to settle a dispute between mages and Templars. Everyone but Lady Trevelyan died – and she escaped through the Fade and came out of there bearing that mark.”

     “If Corypheus was there, he somehow survived as well”, Lea noted. Solas nodded.

     “Agreed.”

     “What can you tell me about the orb? You said it was elven.”

     “I did”, Solas said. “They were _foci_ , tools that could channel ancient magics. I’ve seen memories of such things in the Fade. Corypheus might think it Tevinter, but his empire was built on the bones of my people. Knowing or not, he risks the alliance between the Inquisition and the elves here. I cannot allow it.”

     Lea nodded.

     “I can see how elves might be an easy target, Solas.”

     “History would agree.”

     He turned to look back at the camp. She followed his gaze.

     “There are steps we can take to prevent such a distraction”, he said, “to ensure that the Inquisition remains intact – and that an attack such as the one on Haven does not happen again.”

     She frowned at him.

     “And what are those steps?”

     “You need to be their leader”, Solas replied.

     “Easier said than done”, she muttered and crossed her arms across her chest. Solas let out a slight chuckle.

     “They have already decided to follow you, as long as you show yourself willing to take the lead. I heard your speech in Haven; you have what it takes.”

     She did not reply.

     “By attacking the Inquisition and killing Lady Trevelyan”, Solas continued, “Corypheus has changed it. Changed you. Lead them north. Scout ahead and keep their hopes up. Use the time you find yourself having while we camp to learn more about this world and your place here.”

     “What’s in the north?” Lea asked as they started to walk back towards the camp, after Solas extinguished the blue flame.

     “A place that waits for a force to hold it”, he replied, “where the Inquisition can build and grow.”

     “And that place is…”

     “You’ll know it when you see it.”

* * *

She did not sleep much that night. Mainly because she was unused to sleeping in a camp in the middle of the wilderness surrounded by hundreds of other people, but also because she was going through what she needed to do next. People wanted her to lead. Her. A stranger to both them and this world.

     And she found herself wanting to take the job.

     Evelyn had been the one keeping them together before. Now it was her turn.

     She approached Cassandra in the morning. As she was not sure how people might react when they heard Solas had been the one suggesting the route north, she simply said someone had tipped her off about a possible place for the Inquisition to stay instead of Haven. It took some time to convince Cassandra about it, but eventually she agreed. Together they talked with Cullen and the two other women Lea had seen the night before – Josephine, the dark skinned woman, and Leliana, the woman with the purple shawl. They agreed that they had nothing to lose on heading north. If they did not come upon anything, they would eventually find the major northern trading route between Orlais and Ferelden – the two countries whose border lay among the mountains they now where in. The mountains were good for hunting and they had brought as much supplies as they had time for from Haven, thus they would not starve, but they would have to be careful with the injured and make sure they chose routes that were accessible to the animals and wagons.

     Leading the group of refugees that day felt both strange and completely right.

     They found nothing of interest during that day’s march, but Lea spent as much time as possible scouting ahead, making sure they found the best routes leading north. There were old roads all around them, she soon realized; her grandfather had taught her how to recognize deer trails as a child and these were similar, only wider. Others who were expert hunters noted the same and the mood was high that evening when they set up camp again. Lea spent the time she had before dinner pouring over Cassandra’s maps, trying to memorize them. They did little for these unmapped roads, but if she was to lead the Inquisition it was probably a good idea to learn the lay of the land – and not confuse the various kingdoms. After dinner, Leliana took her to practice archery. After landing several surprise hits on the target, Lea started to wonder if her ending up here had given her some important skills to hone. She was certainly not as accurate – or fast – as Leliana was, but her arrows always landed within the circle they had drawn on a tree stump with a piece of coal.

     “You should test your abilities with a blade with Cassandra or Cullen”, Leliana said as they headed back to camp. “Perhaps you have those as well.”

     Thus that was what she did the next night, when they set up camp again. Cullen was the one who offered to train her. She was definitely not as skilled with a blade as he was – or had the muscle mass needed for a long sword fight – but he noted that she did not seem to be a novice either. Especially when fighting with Evelyn’s twin knives.

     That was good to know.

     While walking on the third day, she ended up talking to a man called Dorian. He was a mage from the Tevinter Imperium – well, he had been, but he had left after not agreeing with his father’s orders to marry a girl he did not love. He was one of the more recent additions to the Inquisition, having only joined up when Evelyn had recruited the rebel mages to the cause – only days before the attack on Haven. Dorian had not been one, but he did provide excellent company with his witty and sarcastic remarks. After her fencing lesson that night, Dorian joined her by the fire, along with a dwarf writer named Varric. The dwarf immediately started to tell some of his stories. Lea was not sure how many of them that were made up, but they were certainly entertaining and drew an audience.

     On the fourth day, Solas joined her at the front of the group, walking alongside her up an old road through a mountain pass.

     “Are we close?” she asked him, glancing back at the Inquisition. He gave her a slight nod, causing her to lengthen her steps and hurry up to the mountain pass.

     Her jaw dropped in surprise at the sight that greeted her.

     In front of her was a mostly hidden valley – and on the smaller mountains in its centre stood a massive stone fortress. It looked mainly intact – and there were already people streaming into it from a road leading there from the west. People who had received word of the Inquisition’s arrival through bird messages.

     “This”, Solas said, standing next to her, “is Skyhold.”

     They used the rest of the day to organize themselves in this new home of theirs. Josephine took care of most of it and insisted Lea get some rest in the quarters she had been assigned in one of the towers. Upon arriving there, Lea found several servants – human and elven – preparing it with the best furniture they had been able to find in the castle or bring with them.

     The room was circular and massive, with glass doors leading out to balconies on both sides of the tower. There was an already lit fireplace and the bed had been made with dark red covers. A basin of hot water had been brought up for her to wash off with – and new clothes had been placed on a chair by a wooden desk. Not Evelyn’s clothes; these had been fitted to her. Lea had been wearing Evelyn’s armour while trekking through the mountains and had discovered that, while her and Evelyn had been similar in height, their build was not quite the same. Lea’s shoulders were broader and her chest smaller, making the armour fit badly. It would have been close to useless in a battle. But it had felt wrong to take it off.

     Now, however, she did. She used a rag to wipe off the dirt and sweat from every part of her body she could access, before slipping into the new clothes. They were soft and beige in colour, the trousers somewhat darker than the tunic, and the tunic adorned with amber buttons along the front. The outfit came with a pair of knee high boots that Lea immediately wished had a zipper. Instead she had to tighten the laces from her foot up to just below her knee – and she dreaded getting out of them.

     When she felt done, she headed back down and outside. There was a lot of activity going on there still; items being moved from one place to another, people being assigned places to stay, and more people coming in through the gates. Lea did not know for sure, but she did not think these people had come with the Inquisition from Haven.

     She spotted Cullen, Cassandra, Leliana and Josephine not far from the door she had walked out from. Cullen was the first to notice her. He gave her a smile, his light brown eyes gleaming with what she thought might be appreciation at the way she looked. That made her blush slightly and look away, instead meeting Cassandra’s gaze. The Seeker waved her over – and at her approach, the other three left.

     “Skyhold’s becoming a pilgrimage”, Cassandra noted, nodding in the direction of the gates and the people entering the courtyard. “Word of the Inquisition’s arrival has certainly spread.”

     She started to walk towards the stairs leading up to a raised speaker’s platform – from which stairs continued up to the main floor of the fortress and what had once been the great hall. Lea fell into step beside her.

     “And if word has reached these people”, Cassandra continued, “it will have reached the Elder One. Here we have the walls and numbers to put up a fight, but this threat is far beyond the war we anticipated. But we now know what drew Corypheus to Evelyn Trevelyan, what will draw him to you – and what will allow you to stand against him.”

     Lea looked down at the mark on her left hand.

     “He came for this”, she agreed, “and when he couldn’t get it from Evelyn, he decided to kill her instead.”

     Cassandra nodded slightly.

     “The Anchor has power, that is true, but that is not alone what brought us all here.”

     She led the way up the next set of stairs to the speaker’s platform.

     “Evelyn’s decisions allowed us to heal the sky. Your determination made sure we made it safely here from Haven. Because of that, you are now the creature’s rival. All of us know that.”

     As they reached the platform, Lea was surprised to find Leliana standing there, holding a long sword, its hilt decorated with a golden dragon. The blade seemed to come out of its open jaws.

     “The Inquisition requires a leader”, Cassandra said, “one who has already been leading it.”

     The crunch of feet on dry leaves made Lea look down. Below, in the grassy courtyard, people were gathering. She saw Cullen and Josephine among them, smiling widely at her. More stood up in the castle itself, and along the wall opposite. All looked to her.

     “That”, Cassandra said, “is you.”

     “You all have that much confidence in me, despite not knowing me for more than a few days?” Lea asked, turning towards her.

     “Evelyn saw what you could be”, Cassandra replied, “and you proved it to us during the attack. You proved it when you led us here. These people have their lives because of you; they will follow.”

     She gestured towards the sword Leliana was holding and Lea took a step towards it.

     “The Inquisition would not still be here without you”, Cassandra said, “but how you serve it, how you lead it, that shall be up to you.”

     Lea slowly reached out and placed her hand on the handle of the sword, lifting it from Leliana’s hands. It was heavy, but she still held it up in front of her, studying it. She doubted it was more than a symbol; it seemed too ornate to work as a functional weapon. It was the symbol of the Inquisition’s leader.

     And she was about to accept that role.

     She glanced down at the people below, then back at the sword.

     “This isn’t about a greater message”, she said. “We have an enemy – and we have to stand together. We’ll do what is right. The Inquisition will fight for all of us.”

     “Wherever you lead us”, Cassandra said with a slight nod that might have been a small bow. She walked up to the edge of the platform.

     “Have our people been told?” she called.

     “They have”, Josephine replied, “and soon, the world.”

     “Commander”, Cassandra called, “will they follow?”

     Cullen turned towards those gathered.

     “Inquisition, will you follow?” he asked, his voice loud. A cheer went up from the crowd.

     “Will you fight? Will we triumph?”

     The cheer grew in strength with each question. Cullen then turned back around and gave her a small, lopsided smile as he drew his own sword.

     “Your leader, your Herald, your Inquisitor!”

     The cheer grew to unimaginable heights as he thrust the sword into the sky. She mimicked the gesture and drew a deep breath to calm her raising heart.

     Inquisitor. Herald. Leader.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Well, I heard the other Herald already dropped half a mountain on that bastard”, he said. “I’m sure anything I can tell you pales in comparison.”_   
>  _“I’m not Evelyn”, Lea replied. “Unless I manage to somehow drop a mountain on him as well, I doubt that action can count as mine.”_   
>  _“Touché.”_

After the ceremony, she walked into what had once been the great hall with Cullen, Josephine and Leliana. It was mostly intact, but needed a bit of cleaning and restauration before it could be used properly. She ran her fingers along the metallic frame of a fallen chandelier, then looked up at the ceiling far above to see where it had once been hanging. She could not make that out.

     “So this is where it begins”, Cullen mused, picking up a fallen chair from the floor.

     “It begun in the courtyard”, Leliana replied. “This is where we turn that promise into action.”

     “But what do we do?” Josephin pondered. “We know nothing about this Corypheus except that he wanted the mark from Lady Trevelyan – the mark that is now yours.”

     Lea lifted her hand to study the mark – the Anchor – in question. Her first plan was to research Corypheus, but considering the state Skyhold was in she doubted she would be able to find a historical encyclopaedia listing ancient Tevinter magisters. Nor was there a computer she could use to google the name.

     “Corypheus wants to restore Tevinter”, she said and turned around to face the three of them. “Does that mean war with the imperium?”

     “I get the feeling we’re dealing with extremists”, Cullen replied, “not the vanguard of a true invasion.”

     “Tevinter is not the imperium of a thousand years ago”, Josephine filled in. “What Corypheus yearns to restore no longer exists. Though they would shed no tears if the South fell into chaos, I’m certain.”

     Lea made a mental note of reading up on Tevinter history. Or ask Dorian about it.

     “Could he strike at us here, then?” she asked. “Cassandra seemed to think we’d be able to hold him off better here, but we still do not want a repeat of what happened at Haven.”

     “Skyhold should be able to stand against him, yes”, Cullen agreed, “and after what Evelyn did with one trebuchet, I’d bet against direct attack.”

     “Even if Evelyn’s no longer here with us? Even if it’s me instead?”

     “I think he’d still hesitate, considering the rumours already spreading about you”, Leliana replied. During their walk to Skyhold, Lea had learned that the woman dressed in purple was the Inquisition’s spymaster – and a very good one. She had agents listening in everywhere. Nothing remained a secret from her.

     “We also have one advantage”, Leliana continued. “We know what Corypheus intends to do next.”

     “Wait, we do?” Lea asked with a frown. Leliana smiled slightly.

     “A mere week ago, Evelyn and Dorian ended up one year in the future. They saw what would happen if we did not defeat Corypheus – and what he intended to do next. Empress Celene of Orlais had been assassinated.”

     “Imagine the chaos that would cause”, Josephine said with a shake of her head. “With his army…”

     “An army bolstered with a massive force of demons”, Cullen filled in, “or so the future tells us.”

     Lea narrowed her eyes in thought.

     “He’ll assassinate Empress Celene, throw the South into chaos, and march right in and claim what’s left. Unless Ferelden manages to stand against him.”

     “Ferelden’s not as prepared as Orlais for an outright war with a force like Corypheus’”, Cullen replied. “King Alistair would fight a good fight, certainly, but Orlais is the bulk of the southern forces.”

     “I’d feel better if I knew exactly what we were dealing with”, Leliana sighed.

     “I know someone who can help with that.”

     They all turned towards the door, where Varric had entered. He made a slight bow in Lea’s direction.

     “Now, everyone acting all heroic jogged my memory”, Varric continued, “so I sent a message to an old friend. He’s crossed paths with Corypheus before and may have heard about what he’s doing.”

     Lea glanced at the others around her, then nodded.

     “Well, I’m always looking for new allies”, she said. “Introduce me.”

     Varric glanced in the direction of the door, cleared his throat, then sighed.

     “Parading around might cause a fuss”, he said. “It’s better if you two met privately, on the battlements. Trust me, it’s complicated.”

     He turned with a slight shrug and walked back out, leaving Lea frowning. Looking around, she saw that the others looked equally confused. Well, not Leliana. She looked like she might actually know who Varric was talking about – and did not quite like it.

     To tell the truth, so did Cullen – though he looked a bit more shaken than Leliana did. He met her gaze, then quickly looked away again.

     “If Varric has brought who I think he has”, Leliana sighed, “Cassandra’s going to kill him.”

     “Why?” Lea asked.

     “Because she’s been asking Varric to bring him here for months”, Leliana replied. “I’ll be up in the rookery; I need to send a few messages.”

     She turned and disappeared down a side corridor. Josephine soon followed, leaving Lea alone with Cullen. He was still looking towards the door.

     “Is everything alright?” she asked, taking a step towards him. He quickly turned to face her.

     “Of course. Though I agree with Leliana; Cassandra will kill Varric if he’s brought the one we’re thinking he’s brought.”

     “Care to share that information?” Lea asked. Cullen hesitated.

     “It’s probably better if you find out who it is in person, instead of hearing it from me.”

     “You sure? You seem… distressed.”

     “It’s nothing”, Cullen replied, sighed. “I’ll need to make sure our forces get organized and settled in. I’ll be down by the gate, if you wish to speak more later.”

     He bowed slightly to her, then walked out through the door as well. Lea remained in the hall, looking around it once again, before going out to find Varric.

     Just like he had said, he was up on the battlements. There was no sign of anyone else, though.

     “Ah, there you are”, he said. “My friend will be here any minute. You holding up alright?”

     “Yeah, sure”, Lea replied and leaned back against the wall. “Still trying to understand everything, but it’ll work out fine.”

     Varric chuckled.

     “Just make sure you let people know if you need help, alright? We all miss Evelyn – but we saw what you could do as well. The leader you could be. I think you’ll do well, kiddo. Ah…”

     He nodded towards the stairs she had just descended, making her look up there as well. A man suddenly stood there, dressed in armour and a fur cloak that left his arms bare. He had brown, messy hair, a shadow of a beard and was smiling a lopsided smile at them.

     “Inquisitor, meet Hawke”, Varric introduced, “the Champion of Kirkwall.”

     “Though I don’t use that title much anymore”, Hawke replied and walked down to them. He held out his hand and Lea shook it.

     “I figured you’d have some friendly advice about Corypheus”, Varric continued. “You and I did fight him, after all.”

     Hawke leaned against the wall, studying Lea. She crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly feeling exposed.

     “Well, I heard the other Herald already dropped half a mountain on that bastard”, he said. “I’m sure anything I can tell you pales in comparison.”

     “I’m not Evelyn”, Lea replied. “Unless I manage to somehow drop a mountain on him as well, I doubt that action can count as mine.”

     “Touché.”

     Hawke smiled a lopsided smile once more.

     “So then”, he said, “what can I tell you?”

     “Varric said you fought Corypheus before”, Lea replied.

     “Fought _and_ killed”, Hawke agreed. “The Grey Wardens were holding him – and he somehow used his connection to the Darkspawn to influence them.”

     “Corypheus got into their heads”, Varric filled in, “messed with their minds, turned them against one another.”

     “If the Wardens have disappeared”, Hawke said, “they might have fallen under his control again.”

     Lea was not sure if Hawke knew about her recent arrival in this world – and how little these names of various organisations so far meant to her. She decided not to broach the subject and ask about these Grey Wardens. There were others she could ask about that later.

     “So Corypheus possibly has the Grey Wardens, those Red Templars we saw at Haven…”

     “And the Venatori”, Varric filled in. She gave the dwarf a grateful glance as he supplied her with the name of the Tevinter extremist organization she had been told of on the way here. Varric gave her a hint of a smile that seemed so say _You’re welcome_.

     “Yes, and the Venatori. Sounds absolutely wonderful.”

     Hawke huffed and straightened up.

     “I didn’t come this far just to give you bad news. You see, I’ve got a friend in the Wardens. He was investigating something unrelated to this, for me. His name is Stroud. The last time we spoke, he was worried about corruption in the Warden ranks. Since then… nothing.”

     “Corypheus would certainly qualify as corruption in the ranks”, Varric noted. “Did your friend disappear with the rest of them?”

     “No”, Hawke replied. “He told me he’d be hiding in an old smuggler’s cave near Crestwood.”

     “What were you investigating, then, if you didn’t know about Corypheus?” Lea asked.

     “The Templars in Kirkwall were using a strange form of lyrium. It was red.”

     Lea thought she understood half of those words. Maybe fewer.

     “I’d hoped the Wardens could tell me more about it”, Hawke continued. Lea frowned slightly and pursed her lips.

     “Corypheus had Red Templars at Haven”, she said, looking at Varric. “You think they’re called that because they’ve been exposed to red lyrium?”

     “Most likely”, Varric agreed.

     “Hopefully my friend in the Wardens will know more”, Hawke said. Lea nodded.

     “I appreciate your help.”

     “I’m doing this as much for myself as I do it for you”, Hawke replied. “Corypheus is my responsibility. I thought I’d killed him before. This time, I’ll make sure of it.”

     Lea nodded at him, then at Varric, before she took her leave. She needed to read up on a lot of history, it would seem, in order to actually understand this world. Were history lessons part of being the Inquisitor.

     “Maker, you’re a mess!”

     Someone grabbed hold of her and turned her around midstride. A woman, her skin ebony dark and her hair shaved off, exposing her elegant cheekbones. She wore an intricate, white and grey attire that both covered and exposed her to the world – and her eyes looked her over in a concerned fashion. She tutted slightly at what she saw.

     “Um, hi”, Lea said. “Who are you?”

     “Oh, how rude of me”, the woman said. “I forget you’re not Evelyn. I am Vivienne, first enchanter of Montsimmard and enchantress to the imperial court. Now, how are you feeling, my dear? You do look dreadful. Have you been sleeping alright?”

     “I’m quite fine, thank you”, Lea replied with a small smile.

     “Well, it’s a good idea to keep up appearances”, Vivienne said. “You’ve handled this crisis very competently, saving a lot of people and making sure we all got here.”

     “Not everyone made it”, Lea sighed and looked away. They had had to bury people every night and every morning, and more had been lost back during the battle at Haven. According to some rumours she had heard during the journey, less than half of the original Inquisition had made it to Skyhold.

     They needed to recruit people if they were to stand a chance against Corypheus again.

     “Now, now”, Vivienne said, “you have not failed anyone, my dear. The men and women who fight for you gave their lives for a great cause. They all fought to the end – and those still here still fight, and will continue to do so. You cannot give up now.”

     “Right”, Lea agreed. “I won’t. Now, if you excuse me, I need to go and see Commander Cullen.”

     “Oh? I do hope it’s a professional visit, my dear; Commander Cullen is beneath you.”

     Lea paused her steps.

     “I’m sorry, what?” she asked and turned back towards Vivienne.

     “My dear, as the Inquisitor, you hold a very powerful title. Pursuing a romance with anyone of a lesser rank is not beneficial for you.”

     Lea stared at her for a few seconds, which was most likely not the most polite thing in the world to do.

     “Look”, she then said, “I am not pursing anything like that at the moment, but if I end up doing that, with him or someone else, I won’t give a rat’s arse about his title as long as he loves and cares for me as I will love and care for him.”

     Then she turned and marched off, aiming towards the gates. She heard Cullen giving commands to his soldiers before she spotted him leaning over a table, going over documents and maps.

     “Send men to scout the area; we need to know what’s out there.”

     “Commander”, a soldier walking from what had been deemed to serve as the barracks, “soldiers have been assigned temporary quarters.”

     “Very good”, Cullen said. “I’ll need an update on the armoury as well. Now.”

     He looked up and spotted her – and, at once, the soldiers still remaining dispersed.

     “So”, he said, “you’ve met Varric’s friend?”

     “Yes”, Lea replied, “a man named Hawke. Is that the one you thought might be coming?”

     “Yes”, Cullen sighed.

     “What’s wrong with him? He seemed distressed about the disappearance of the Grey Wardens and Corypheus in general, but there was nothing… sinister.”

     “I doubted there was”, Cullen replied with a hint of a smile, “but I don’t think he remembers me as someone he’d like to fight alongside.”

     Lea frowned.

     “Why not?”

     “Before I joined the Inquisition, I was a Templar”, Cullen replied and started to walk. She fell into step beside him.

     “The Templars serve the Chantry – and we’re charged with keeping mages in control. See that they do not harm anyone with their powers. We use lyrium to gain a form of immunity against magic spells.”

     He made a brief pause.

     “A few years ago, the mages rebelled against their Templar overseers, demanding that they govern themselves – and mages and Templars have been fighting one another ever since. I was assigned to Kirkwall and was second-in-command to Knight-Commander Meredith during the uprising there. I… did not completely agree with her plans, but I still followed her orders. Until I realized that I no longer could.”

     He scratched the back of his head and sighed.

     “I fought alongside Hawke against Meredith, in the end, but it took me too long to realize what a fool I’d been. When Cassandra approached me for the Inquisition, I accepted at once.”

     “Hawke mentioned the Templars in Kirkwall using some sort of red lyrium”, Lea said.

     “Yes.”

     “Were… did you see some you knew on the battlefield? At Haven?”

     Cullen nodded.

     “I’m sorry”, she said and touched his arm. He nodded again, then looked up at what they could see of Skyhold from where they stood.

     “We set up as best we could at Haven”, he said, “but could never have prepared for an archdemon – or whatever that thing was. Now that we know, we might…”

     “Prepare. Yes, I know.”

     Cullen gave her a hint of a smile, before looking back towards his desk.

     “If Corypheus strikes again, we might not be able to retreat like we did at Haven. And I don’t think I’d want to.”

     “We’ll be ready”, Lea said and looked around them. “Everyone’s doing an amazing job getting this place back into shape – it’s been less than a day and it already looks different.”

     “Guard rotations have been assigned and everything should be up and running within a week”, Cullen agreed, “and the morale’s improved greatly since this morning.”

     He gave her a small smile again.

     “Since you accepted the role of Inquisitor.”

     Lea swallowed and looked away, back towards the people hurrying back and forth, completing various tasks.

     “Everyone seems to have so much faith in my leadership skills”, she said, “except for me.”

     “You won’t have to carry the Inquisition alone”, he assured her, “although, it might feel like that. We needed a leader and you’ve proven yourself – and Evelyn believed the same of you.”

     Lea nodded, wrapping her arms around herself in a hug.

     “Thank you, Cullen. I’m relieved that so many of us made it here.”

     “As am I”, Cullen said, his voice a soft sigh. He looked away when she tried to catch his eye. She took that as a sign that their conversation was over and moved to leave.

     His hand caught hers.

     “You stayed behind”, he said, his voice soft. “You ventured out there, determined to find Evelyn, and when you came back… you were so cold.”

     She remembered him carrying her down to the camp, wrapped in his cloak, his body a furnace compared to hers.

     “It was close”, she admitted, both to him and herself. She knew the dangers of hypothermia. It was a wonder she had survived without having to remove a toe or finger or even a leg.

     “I won’t let the events at Haven repeat themselves”, Cullen promised. “You have my word.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Well, from what I’ve seen of Cassandra, she’s like that with everyone”, she said. Solas let out a laugh – not just a chuckle, but a laugh – then turned and led the way up the stairs again. It did not feel as if they quite walked the entire way; as if they were on the stairs one moment, and the next they were outside the Chantry, in the winter sun._   
>  _“She was never going to wake up”, Solas said. “How could she? She was a mortal, sent physically through the Fade. I was frustrated, frightened. The spirits I might have consulted had been driven away by the Breach, and although I wished to help, I had no faith in Cassandra, nor she in me. I was ready to flee.”_   
>  _“I’m glad you didn’t”, Lea said. “If you had, I wouldn’t have gotten the chance to meet you.”_

As the days in Skyhold progressed, Lea became more acquainted with those who had been Evelyn’s closest friends and allies. Other than Cullen, Leliana, Josephine, Cassandra, Varric, Dorian, Solas and Vivienne – whom Lea was not quite sure if she liked or not – there was Blackwall, a former Grey Warden and the only one they had been able to find, Sera, a city elf with a penchant for mischief, and the Iron Bull, a Qunari warrior and leader of a band of mercenaries. The Qunari were humanoid beings with horns on their heads. The Iron Bull had horns that stuck out, well, like a bull’s. They were wider than his shoulders – and he was a man of impressive build, meaning he had broad shoulders to begin with. On their third evening in Skyhold, he brought her out to one of the many camps that had sprung up around the fortress and introduced her to some new recruits – ones who did not know who she was. With his help, she went undercover and found out just what people thought of her – and how to change their opinions.

     It was when she returned to the keep that she found Leliana and Cullen in one of the offices they had restored.

     “I’m sorry”, Leliana said, eyes on the floor. Cullen sighed and nodded.

     “So am I.”

     He turned, met her gaze, then walked out of the room. Lea turned back towards Leliana and noted the scroll she was clutching in her right hand.

     “The names of those we lost”, the spymaster said before she had a chance to ask. She walked over to the desk and leaned against it.

     “You must blame me for this.”

     “We all saw who attacked us”, Lea replied. “We know exactly who to blame – and that’s not you.”

     Leliana shook her head.

     “I had scouts out in the field”, she said and walked over to the window instead. “When the first of them went missing… I pulled the rest back, awaiting more information. If they had stayed in the field, they could’ve…”

     “You took care of your people”, Lea interrupted. “That’s a good thing.”

     Leliana laughed bitterly.

     “Is it? Instead of losing some of my people, we lost… many. And Haven. My people know their duty. They know the risks and they understand that the Inquisition may call upon them to give their lives.”

     “Our people are not tools to be used and discarded”, Lea sharply protested. “Your instincts were right; their lives matter.”

     “Can we afford such sentimentality?” Leliana exclaimed. “What if Corypheus…”

     “We’re better than Corypheus”, Lea shot back. Leliana paused. Then, her shoulders slumped.

     “I know. I just…”

     “You’re not to blame”, Lea said and walked up to her. “No one blames you. In fact, I think we all blame ourselves instead. We all wonder what we could have done to save more people. But we cannot let that keep us from continuing with the Inquisition, from fighting.”

     “You’re right”, Leliana agreed. “Thank you, Inquisitor.”

     “Still not used to that title”, Lea muttered. That made Leliana smile slightly.

     “You will be, soon.”

     Lea gave her a smile, then bade her goodnight and exited the room. She had not even reached the next staircase when a servant approached her.

     “My Lady Inquisitor”, she said, curtsying, “the apostate Solas asked me to tell you to come see him in the rotunda once you found yourself having the time to do so.”

     Lea hesitated. She was tired and could use some rest, especially considering that she had fencing practice with Cassandra in the morning, but since their arrival at Skyhold she had seen very little of Solas. He kept to himself and only rarely had meals with the rest of them – and she had been overseeing this and that all over the fortress, while learning about politics and history and geography and everything else someone from another world would not know. When she had spoken to Solas before, he had felt as much as an outsider as she felt. That made her think of him as a sort of friend.

     “Alright”, she said, “lead the way.”

     The servant’s eyes widened, before she curtsied again and turned, leading the way up another set of stairs into one of the fortresses towers. The rotunda turned out to be the main floor of this tower – the ceiling of which was far above their heads, instead of just a floor up. Along the circular wall Lea spotted some scaffolding and jars of paint. There were outlines drawn in coal on the wall, depicting some event or another.

     “Ah”, Solas said, rising from the high-backed chair by the desk with a small smile, “I’m glad you could make it.”

     The servant quickly left, after curtsying a third time.

     “I didn’t know you were an artist”, Lea noted, studying the coal drawings. Solas chuckled.

     “I don’t claim to be. But it is my way of recording things. Paper burns easily and stories told often change. These images won’t be so easily removed.”

     Lea nodded.

     “How are you feeling?” Solas asked.

     “Still not sure this is a good idea”, Lea replied with a sigh and turned to face him. “Most of the time I hardly know what’s going on – or who people are talking about. It’s getting better – I at least have learned the capitals of the different kingdoms by now.”

     “From what I hear, you’re doing just fine”, Solas replied. “I was more concerned about the Anchor. Has it troubled you, since Lady Trevelyan’s death?”

     Lea shook her head.

     “No.”

     “Good. I’m glad to hear it.”

     Lea ran her right thumb along the green, glowing mark on her left palm.

     “You said you kept this from killing me when I arrived, and that you did the same for Evelyn”, she said, “and you speak to spirits in the Fade. That… your studies sound very different from any other mage’s I’ve spoken to so far.”

     “It’s not a common topic, I agree”, Solas said.

     “Could you tell me more about it?”

     He arched an eyebrow slightly.

     “You continue to surprise me, it seems”, he said. “Alright, let us talk – but preferably somewhere more interesting than this.”

     He rose and walked ahead of her towards the door.

     Moments after stepping out of it, she found herself ascending a set of stairs. Frowning, she also realized that it was day all around her.

     She stopped, blinked and looked around.

     “Where are we?” she asked, trying to make sense of her thoughts. Her mind seemed to work slower than usual.

     “Where do you think?” Solas asked, slightly ahead of her. He stepped off the stairs onto a raised courtyard. Lea blinked, then looked around them again. The Chantry. The army camp. The village.

     “This… this is Haven. How?”

     She turned back towards Solas. He was smiling.

     “Come”, he said, then turned towards the Chantry. Still not sure how this was all possible, she followed. He led her down into the Chantry’s basement, to what appeared to be a dungeon. There was an empty chain on the floor in front of them.

     “This”, Solas said, “was where Evelyn was held.”

     “She was a prisoner?” Lea asked, frowning.

     “She was the only survivor of the explosion at the Temple of Sacred Ashes – and she came out of there with the Anchor on her hand. It made her a suspect in Cassandra’s investigation regarding who had caused the explosion. I sat beside Evelyn as she slept, studying the Anchor. She was a mystery… as are you.”

     He turned towards her with a hint of a smile, before looking back at where Evelyn had been chained.

     “I ran every test I could imagine, searched the Fade, yet found nothing. Cassandra suspected duplicity; she threatened to have me executed as an apostate if I didn’t produce results.”

     He sounded amused, even though the topic was far from amusing.

     “Well, from what I’ve seen of Cassandra, she’s like that with everyone”, she said. Solas let out a laugh – not just a chuckle, but a laugh – then turned and led the way up the stairs again. It did not feel as if they quite walked the entire way; as if they were on the stairs one moment, and the next they were outside the Chantry, in the winter sun.

     “She was never going to wake up”, Solas said. “How could she? She was a mortal, sent physically through the Fade. I was frustrated, frightened. The spirits I might have consulted had been driven away by the Breach, and although I wished to help, I had no faith in Cassandra, nor she in me. I was ready to flee.”

     “I’m glad you didn’t”, Lea said. “If you had, I wouldn’t have gotten the chance to meet you.”

     “I’m glad to hear that”, Solas said, then turned to look out across Haven. There was a hole in the sky, Lea suddenly noted, in the same green colour as the mark on her hand.

     The Breach.

     “That… had been sealed when I was here last”, she said with a frown.

     “It had been”, Solas agreed. “And if it had not, it might have expanded to the entire world.”

     “Yet you had thoughts of fleeing? Where to?”

     “Someplace far away”, Solas replied with a slight shrug and a smile, “where I might have studied the Breach and learned a way to close it, alone, before it reached me. I never said it was a good plan. But before that…”

     He walked in the direction of the stairs, eyes on the Breach.

     “Before that, I told myself, I’d give it one more attempt. One more attempt to close the Breach. I tried, and failed. No ordinary magic would affect the rifts it created. I watched them expand and grow. I prepared myself to flee. And then… then Cassandra brought Evelyn there. And Evelyn raised her hand at the rift in front of me, the one I had struggled with, and it sealed.”

     He turned around to face her.

     “Evelyn held the key to our salvation – and now, the same goes for you. When you appeared as Lady Trevelyan sealed the Breach itself, bearing the same mark, I was better prepared. I knew how to stop it from spreading – and you woke up much faster, making me believe you had not gone through the Fade. But it was when I first heard you speak, here in Haven, and when you and I spoke at the camp, that I understood just how much you would be able to change the world.”

     He stepped back so that he stood in front of her again.

     “Evelyn had the power to change the world”, he said. “You also have the determination to do it.”

     Lea smiled slightly at him.

     “Thank you, Solas. Now, mind telling me where the hell we are as I know perfectly well this cannot be real?”

     Solas laughed again.

     “You are not even a mage, yet you are this clear-minded while visiting me here. Another surprise.”

     “Wait…”

     Lea looked around them again.

     “This is the Fade, isn’t it?” she asked. Solas smiled.

     “I’d say it’s probably best discussed after you wake up.”

     She sat up with a gasp, nearly banging her head on Solas’ desk. He knelt down next to her, smiling the same smile as he had in the dream.

     “Jesus bloody Christ”, she hissed, rubbing at her temple.

     “How are you feeling?” he asked.

     “A bit of a headache, which could have been worse if I was a bit taller”, she replied. “How did you do that? Was that some sort of dream?”

     “I can walk the Fade in dreams, yes”, Solas answered. “I was curious to know if I could bring you along, considering your mark. It would seem that worked quite well – and you handled it marvellously. I don’t think we’d even made it up the stairs before you realized something was not as you had thought it would be.”

     “My parents always said I had a penchant for noticing details”, Lea replied.

     “A good skill”, Solas said and helped her to her feet, “one I suggest you put to good use for the Inquisition.”

     Lea nodded, glancing up at the walls again.

     “One more question.”

     “Yes?”

     “Are those wolves?”

     Solas hesitated.

     “Yes”, he then replied. “I decided to symbolize the Inquisition with wolves. Is there something wrong about that?”

     “No”, Lea replied, “rather the opposite. Wolves have always been my favourite animals.”

     Solas looked stunned, causing her to laugh slightly.

     “I know here they might still be something out of a farmer’s nightmare, but in my world they’re quite a rare sight. I liked that about them. Plus, they’re protective of their family, their pack, and keep their territory secure from others, and they are clever and loyal.”

     Solas managed a smile, even though he still looked stunned.

     “I’m glad you approve. Now, I believe I’ve taken up enough of your time. Goodnight, Inquisitor.”

* * *

The following days went by in the same manner as the first few, with Lea going through Skyhold, helping out where she could while also studying Thedas as a whole. Josephine said she was a fast learner, but she still felt as if she was going through the names of important men and women too slowly. Other than that, she also had to break up a fight between Varric and Cassandra and issue peace between them. In short; Cassandra was mad about Varric not telling her where Hawke was before, as she had wanted him to lead the Inquisition before, and Varric argued that Cassandra had kidnapped him, so of course he had not given up his friend’s location. In the end Lea convinced Varric to give Cassandra an offering of peace, in the form of the next instalment of his series _Swords and Shields_. Cassandra was a big fan of the series, which Varric found hilarious. But he still came through with the gift.

     They had been at Skyhold for almost two weeks when a servant asked her to go see Cullen in his new quarters, in the tower above the barracks. They had hardly spoken since that first day there, but Lea had found herself thinking about him often. Commander Cullen was a kind man, and not at all bad to look at. As she knocked on the door, he called for her to enter.

     She found him bent over his desk, eyes glued to an open box in front of him. It looked like a medical kit; there was a leather pouch, a spoon, what looked like a syringe and several clean needles – and a container of something glowing in a light blue colour. Cullen raised his eyes from it as she approached. His face was drawn.

     “As leader of the Inquisition, you…” he begun, then straightened up and cleared his throat. “There’s something I must tell you.”

     “Whatever it is, I’m willing to listen”, she replied, her heart beating faster as worry seeped into her mind. Was Cullen ill? Would he be here one day and the next, gone?

     “Right”, Cullen said, nodding, “thank you. This… is lyrium.”

     He lifted the small container with the glowing blue substance from its place in the box, holding it as if it terrified him.

     “Lyrium grants Templars their abilities”, he explained. “It allows us to withstand magic, in order for us to be able to handle rouge mages. But it controls us as well. Those cut off from it suffer; some go mad, others die.”

     “It’s a drug?” Lea asked with a frown.

     “Yes. I suppose it is.”

     He sighed slightly and put the lyrium container back in its place.

     “We’ve secured a reliable source of lyrium for the Templars here, but I… no longer take it.”

     “You… stopped?” Lea asked. Cullen nodded.

     “When I joined the Inquisition. It’s been months now.”

     She stepped forward and placed a hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at her.

     “Are you alright?”

     “It… comes and goes”, he admitted, “but after what happened in Kirkwall… I didn’t want to be bound to the Order or that life any longer.”

     He took her hand from his cheek and gave it a slight, reassuring squeeze.

     “Whatever the suffering, I accept it”, he said, “but I would not put the Inquisition at risk. I’ve asked Cassandra to… to watch me. If my ability to lead is compromised, I will be relieved from duty.”

     Lea nodded, keeping her hand in his. He seemed to realize this and blushed slightly, letting go and stepping back. She had to take a deep breath before she could reply.

     “Thank you for telling me about this, Cullen, and know that I deeply respect what you’re doing.”

     He nodded.

     “Thank you, Inquisitor.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“We should spend more time together, then”, Lea said, moving one of her pieces._   
>  _“I’d like that.”_   
>  _She looked up. Cullen’s eyes were warm, his smile kind, and she felt her mouth go dry at the sight. Jesus Christ, she wanted to flip the board away and kiss him senseless._   
>  _“Me too”, she managed to get out, focusing her attention back on the board._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting with this chapter there will be spoilers for things revealed in Trespasser - so if you haven't played that DLC, beware!

Dorian was the first to point out how close she and Cullen seemed to grow during the following weeks. The Tevinter mage had become one of Lea’s closest friends, along with Solas, Leliana and Josephine. And Cullen, of course, but he was certainly a different kind of friend. With him she could not help but notice the way his eyes gleamed when he smiled, or the warm tone of his voice as he greeted her in the corridor, or the way his muscles moved beneath his tunic while he trained. She often recalled how the stubble on his cheek had felt when she touched it that day – and wondered how it might feel to instead kiss it. Kiss both his cheek and his lips.

     “You’re blushing at the mere mention of him”, Dorian chuckled. They were in the library, above Solas’ rotunda. Solas and Dorian got on well enough, but elves and Tevinters had a long history of disliking one another. Acceptance between the two might be all they ever got to. Anyhow, Lea was sure her friend a flight of stairs below them was listening to the conversation – and she was quite certain Dorian knew this as well.

     “He’s a good man”, Lea argued.

     “One you’d like to undress”, Dorian replied.

     “Jesus Christ”, Lea muttered, looking back down at the book in her hands to hide her blush. Dorian simply laughed. She had been away for a few days helping Vivienne track down a snowy white wyvern, then creating a potion to try and save her lover, Duke Bastien. They had succeeded in finding the wyvern and creating the potion, but not in saving Duke Bastien.

     Vivienne had been heartbroken. Lea had come to care for the older woman during her almost two months as Inquisitor. Yes, she still did not think Vivienne quite understood her view on things, but they respected each other and cared about each other’s wellbeing. After their return, Vivienne had told her not to let her own love go if she ever found it.

     Lea had been quite certain she had referred to Cullen – even though she was not sure he could be called her love, seeing as they were not in any sort of romantic relationship – but this time, Vivienne had not jeered at him not having any sort of title. That was progress.

     “You know”, Dorian said, waking her from her thoughts, “the Commander did challenge me to a game of chess the other day. We still haven’t had that. Perhaps I should go see if he’s available for it now, maybe drop a hint you’re back at the same time. See whom he chooses.”

     “Remind me again why I have not gagged you”, Lea snapped. Dorian simply grinned.

     “Oh, I don’t know. I think I look rather good in a gag.”

     Lea dropped her head onto the table with a groan and listened to Dorian’s laugh as he left. As the door slammed, she called down to Solas.

     “If I find you laughing as well, I will end you.”

     “You can try”, Solas called back up. He certainly sounded amused. She groaned again, grabbed her book and walked down the stairs, finding the mage painting one of his murals. He was trying – and failing – to keep the smug grin off his face.

     “You two are proper nightmares”, she said and slumped down in his chair.

     “Ah”, Solas said and climbed down from the scaffolding, “but when it comes to Commander Cullen, _lethallin_ , you are far too easy to get a rise out of. Dorian enjoys that – and I find myself doing the same.”

     He had started calling her that – _lethallin_ – a week or so into their stay here. So far, she had not heard him call anyone else that and she certainly preferred it to Inquisitor, which sounded far too pompous. According to Solas, the closest translation of the word was “dear friend”. Another reason why she preferred it.

     “Tell me of the old elven gods”, she said. “We never got to that last time.”

     She often used Solas as a source for information about ancient elven culture. From what she had heard so far, it was much more alike the one she was familiar with from books back on Earth – but also a lot more savage. The elves had been a proud race once, with their own hierarchy, their own brutal rules and system of slavery. And some very powerful elven mages had been raised to godhood in people’s minds.

     Solas had avoided that topic often and claimed to not know much more than the Dalish – the free elves – did. She found that hard to believe, since he often pointed out just how little the Dalish knew of their past. The way he now turned away from her made her think he was trying to do the same thing again.

     “You’ve read the Dalish history books I leant you”, he said. “I believe you’ve received quite a lot of information through that.”

     “Yes, but you keep on telling me how much the Dalish have gotten wrong”, Lea argued. It was not the first time they had had this conversation – and it was not the first time that Solas did not reply to her argument. She sighed.

     “Alright, look”, she said, “back in my world, I studied religion. It was one of my favourite subjects in school. I loved making comparisons between various cultures’ takes on gods and goddesses and figure out how they might have become so different, or similar. But that required many sources of information. If I had trusted one piece of information only, I might have gotten the idea that, say, all Christians thought that homosexuality was a sin. That’s not true; only a fraction of them do. It’s the same thing with the elven pantheon; the Dalish claim one thing, you might have information that goes against that, and it’ll broaden my views on what the elven pantheon is.”

     She pulled the book on Dalish history from the stack on his desk and flipped it to a page regarding the god Fen’Harel.

     “Take this story, for example”, she said. “It says here that Fen’Harel was responsible for the fall of the elves, as he locked away their gods and goddesses in another realm, never to interact with this again. They call him the Dread Wolf and the Trickster and that he should never be trusted. Now…”

     She closed the book.

     “There were trickster gods in my world as well and, yes, they often had a part in the stories about the fall of the world. But they were not, always, evil. The god Hermes, for example. He was a trickster in the old Greek pantheon, but he was also a messenger and a protector of travellers. And he often tricked the gods for the greater good – like, for the sake of the humans he cared about. And… Solas, are you alright?”

     Solas had gone pale, much paler than she had ever seen him, and his hands were trembling slightly. She rose from the chair and walked around the table, taking his hands in hers.

     “Solas”, she said again. He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath.

     “Why… Fen’Harel?” he asked, opening his eyes again but avoiding looking directly at her.

     “He seemed most interesting”, Lea replied, “and the one most easily depicted as a villain, when he might not even be that.”

     Solas was silent for a while before he spoke once more.

     “Fen’Harel was different than what the Dalish claim him to be”, he said, his voice soft, “but he did lock the other gods away. In order to protect his people. But he failed; the gods disappeared, and the elves fell.”

     He pulled free from her hands and walked out of the rotunda, shocking her. He had never left her like that before – or spoken in such a way about something ancient.

     This had seemed to be about something more than just old historical tales and myths.

     Still deep in thought she walked out of the rotunda, down the stairs to the corridor that everyone seemed inclined to walk through – meaning there was a ton of people bowing or curtsying in her direction as she passed – and then took a left through a door leading to the garden. It was one of her favourite places at Skyhold. Nestled between the fortress and the mountains at its back, the garden was sectioned off into several either circular or square areas. Despite the best efforts of the gardeners that had come in to help, there were still a lot of places where the wildflowers and untamed bushes ruled – and Lea liked that. It made the place feel much more like a forest; she had always liked forests.

     “Gloat all you like; I have this one.”

     She stopped walking at the sound of Cullen’s voice, then quickly made sure that she was out of sight from the covered patio in the next section of the garden, where she spotted Dorian and the Commander playing chess. Still hidden, she observed how at ease Cullen looked while playing. No, he did not have the laidback playing style that Dorian had, but the tension around his mouth and the stiffness of his shoulders that was always present when he gave commands to the soldiers was gone. There was a smile on his lips as he moved one of his pieces. Slowly she straightened up, took a deep breath, and started to walk towards them.

     “Are you sassing me, Commander?” Dorian asked, sounding thoroughly amused. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

     “Why do I even… Inquisitor!”

     Cullen rose abruptly as she neared them, tipping over three of the pieces on his side of the board while doing so. Dorian’s smirk grew.

     “Leaving, are you?” he asked, turning to look at Lea. “Does this mean I win?”

     Cullen narrowed his eyes at him, then sank back down into the chair. Lea wondered if she should strangle Dorian now or later – though, knowing him, he probably would not mind that.

     “Are you two playing nice?” she asked and crossed her arms over her chest.

     “I’m always nice”, Dorian replied, adjusting the fallen pieces. “You, Commander, need to come to terms with my inevitable victory. You’ll feel much better.”

     “Really?” Cullen asked, his eyes gleaming as a lopsided grin appeared on his lips. He moved one of his pieces.

     “Because I just one, and I feel fine.”

     Lea forced back a laugh as Dorian’s face shifted from amusement to surprise. Then he shook his head and rose.

     “Don’t get smug”, he told Cullen, “or there’ll be no living with you.”

     “I should return to my duties as well”, Cullen said as Dorian disappeared into the next section of the garden, “unless…”

     He gestured to the board.

     “Unless you would care for a game?”

     Lea considered it. The chess pieces here were different from the ones she had played with at home, but the rules seemed to be the same. She would not claim to be a pro at playing it, but she knew how to play and had won her fair share of games.

     “Prepare the board, Commander”, she said with a smile and sat down in the chair Dorian had just abandoned. Cullen gave her a smile and put the pieces back in place.

     “As a child, I played this with my sister”, he said. “She would get this stuck-up grin on her face whenever she won – which was all the time.”

     He chuckled and leaned back in his chair.

     “My brother and I practiced together for weeks. You should have seen the look on her face the day I finally won!”

     His smile fell somewhat and his gaze dropped to the board.

     “Between serving the Templars and the Inquisition”, he said and moved one of his pieces, “I haven’t seen them in years. I wonder if she still plays…”

     “You have siblings?” Lea asked, moving one of her own pieces.

     “Two sisters and a brother. How about you?”

     “Three sisters – all younger than me.”

     Cullen chuckled.

     “Mia’s older than me”, he said. “Branson and Rosalie are younger. Mia and Branson teased me a lot when I told them I wanted to become a Templar – they never truly believed me until I was accepted to train with the Order.”

     “Siblings are like that”, Lea said with a smile. “Where are they now?”

     “They moved to South Reach during the Blight”, Cullen replied. “I do not write to them as often as I should. Oh, it’s my turn?”

     Lea smiled again, watching the faint blush creep up his cheeks as he realized how engrossed he had been in their conversation. She did not blame him; she had been as well.

     They played for several hours – three games, two of which Cullen swiftly won. The third took them a longer time to get through. Most of the time they sat in silence, occasionally pointing out that the other made a good move, or a bad one. While the third game progressed, Cullen stretched slightly, shaking out the tension in his shoulders that came from leaning forward to study the board.

     “This may be the longest we’ve gone without discussing the Inquisition”, he said, “or related matters. To be honest… I appreciate the distraction.”

     “We should spend more time together, then”, Lea said, moving one of her pieces.

     “I’d like that.”

     She looked up. Cullen’s eyes were warm, his smile kind, and she felt her mouth go dry at the sight. Jesus Christ, she wanted to flip the board away and kiss him senseless.

     “Me too”, she managed to get out, focusing her attention back on the board. Cullen’s eyes made her cheeks heat; she was glad she had not put her hair up or her blush would have been in plain view for anyone passing them by. Of course, Cullen could still see it, and he did not seem inclined to look away. Eventually, though he cleared his throat and moved slightly on his chair.

     “We should… finish our game. Right?”

     “Right”, she said with a slight smile. They fell silent again, the only sound in the garden coming from the pieces landing on the board.

     “I believe this one is yours”, Cullen eventually said, moving one final piece with a smirk. “Well played.”

     “Thank you”, Lea replied with a smile of her own. They both rose and made for the route she had previously taken to get there. Briefly Cullen’s hand came up to touch the small of her back – but then he quickly dropped it, blushing furiously. He cleared his throat.

     “I… have to get back to my duties”, he said, “but we shall have to try this again sometime. Inquisitor.”

     He bowed, then swiftly turned and walked off in the opposite direction. Lea watched him go, then turned and nearly screamed when Dorian stepped out in front of her, his smirk teasing.

     “You should be glad I haven’t punched you in the face yet”, she hissed at him, then walked ahead of him back through the garden.

     “Why? Because I gave you a way to spend some private time with the Commander? How ungrateful.”

     “Shut up.”

     Dorian laughed quietly all the way back inside – and most likely for quite some time after they had parted ways as well.

     “I appreciate the warning, but you shouldn’t have come here yourself!”

     Lea frowned and walked backwards to the entrance to the great hall. Dinner was about to be served and there were already quite a few people seated – she had intended to head up to her quarters and go through some documents before eating – but hearing Varric’s distressed voice made her pause. The dwarf was standing near one of the restored fireplaces, talking with another dwarf. This new dwarf was slenderer in build and had a hood up, covering his or her features.

     “What if the Guild found out?” Varric continued. “Or… whatshisname?”

     “Are you worrying for me or for yourself?” the other dwarf asked in turn. A woman.

     “A little of column A, a little of column B”, Varric replied. “I’m the expendable one, after all.”

     “Aw”, the female dwarf said with a chuckle. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

     Lea narrowed her eyes in thought, then stepped inside the hall and cleared her throat as she neared them. Varric immediately looked up and the female dwarf spun around, curiously peering up at her.

     “Well, this is a surprise”, the new dwarf then said. “You’re the Inquisitor, right? Bianca Davri, at your service.”

     Lea raised an eyebrow at her, looked at Varric, then back at Bianca.

     “Your name is Bianca?”

     “It’s a common name”, Bianca replied with a shrug. “Half the girls in the Merchants Guild are named Bianca – the other half are named Helga. I lucked out.”

     Varric’s hint of a blush probably meant something else – something regarding the fact that he called his crossbow Bianca. Lea decided to drop it. For now.

     “I take it you’re a friend of Varric’s?”

     “Who isn’t a friend of Varric’s?” Bianca replied with a smile. “You have met him, right?”

     Well, true; Varric was hard not to like. Or, rather, you either liked him or disliked him.

     “And why do you both look like cats caught stealing milk?” Lea asked and crossed her arms over her chest.

     “She’s taken a huge risk coming here”, Varric replied, “maybe for both of us.”

     Bianca snorted.

     “You’re such a worrier. There’s a giant hole in the sky! I think the Merchants Guild has bigger things to think about than me coming here.”

     Varric sighed, then turned back towards Lea.

     “Bianca’s got a lead on where Corypheus gets his red lyrium.”

     Lea blinked, then turned towards Bianca.

     “The site of Bartrand’s Folly, the thaig Varric found, has been leaked”, the female dwarf explained. “There’s a Deep Roads entrance crawling with strange humans carting out red lyrium by the handful.”

     Lea felt her frown deepen. If they could shut down Corypheus’ red lyrium mine, they might be able to stop quite a bit of his army from attacking.

     “Is it the only way they have in or out?” she asked.

     “Well, navigating the Deep Roads isn’t like the surface”, Bianca replied. “There’re no accurate maps of the whole system – and there are cave-ins, darkspawn, lava floods… so if you find a route that gets where you’re going, you don’t deviate. Trying to find another way could be deadly.”

     Lea nodded slightly. She then turned to Varric.

     “You have any clue who could have given up the location of the thaig?”

     Varric had told her about finding the place before – back when him and Hawke went on an expedition together. She doubted Hawke had been the one to leak the location, though.

     “There were hirelings on the expedition”, Varric replied. “Either one of them did it – or one of my old friends.”

     “Considering what you’ve told me about said friends, I doubt they did it”, Lea said.

     “How they found out isn’t important”, Bianca argued. “What matters if we know they’re there.”

     “True”, Lea said. “Can we get there easily from Orlais? Or do we need to head to Kirkwall and start from there?”

     “Well, in theory you can get to any thaig using the Deep Roads”, Bianca replied. “They spanned the dwarven empire, allowed you to go anywhere on the continent. In practice, now, however… there’s a reason no one’s using them anymore.”

     “Then we’ll set out tomorrow morning”, Lea said. “Will you stay here tonight, or do you need to head back?”

     “Head back”, Bianca replied, “but I’ll be at the entrance to the Deep Roads tomorrow evening. Varric will know where to lead you.”

     Then, she hurried off. Varric sighed.

     “Tomorrow, then?” he said.

     “Better deal with it right away”, Lea replied. “I’ll ask Solas and Dorian to come with us.”

     “Two mages, eh?”

     “Would you rather I ask Cassandra?”

  
     “Definitely not.”

     Lea shot him a small smile, then left the hall and headed up to the rotunda. She hoped both Solas and Dorian were there; Dorian had headed in that direction, certainly, but after Solas’ hasty disappearance before…

     She almost let out a relieved sigh when she saw him seated in his chair.

     “You two up for accompanying me and Varric to the Deep Roads tomorrow?” she asked, loud enough for Dorian to hear as well. Solas looked up from his notes. He looked… better, she decided. Not as pale as he had before, but not quite alright yet either.

     “The Deep Roads?” Dorian called, coming over to the railing of the balcony above them. “Why, I’d love to. What’s the occasion?”

     “We’ve got a lead regarding where Corypheus gets his red lyrium”, Lea replied. Dorian’s smile vanished.

     “Then I am definitely in.”

     “As am I”, Solas said and rose. “When do we leave tomorrow?”

     “Once we’ve all had breakfast”, Lea replied. “I’ll ask for provisions from the kitchen and have some stable boys saddle horses for us.”

     “Good”, Solas said. “I’ll go and prepare at once. Inquisitor.”

     He bowed slightly, then disappeared. Lea stared after him. Hearing him address her with such a formal title…

     “Alright”, Dorian said, coming down the stairs, “what did you do to offend him?”

     “If I knew, I wouldn’t just be standing here”, Lea replied. She eyed Solas’ table and realized he had flipped the book of Dalish history and myths open to the same page she had had open before. Hours ago.

     “Oh, bloody fucking hell”, she muttered, slammed the book close and hurried out of the rotunda.

     She found Solas out in the garden, in one of the wilder parts.

     “What’s going on, Solas?” she asked, blocking his way.

     “Nothing you need to concern yourself with”, he replied. She snorted.

     “Right. Because you leaving a conversation the way you’ve done _twice_ today is completely normal.”

     Solas turned away. She immediately grabbed hold of his arm.

     “Please. If I’ve hurt you…”

     “You haven’t.”

     “Then what?” she asked, feeling close to tears. “What did I do, Solas?”

     He turned around, his face softening at the sight of her being close to tears. With a sigh, he pulled her closer into a hug.

     He had never hugged her before.

     “You surprised me”, he murmured into her hair. “That is all.”

     “You always say that”, she said into his tunic. He smelled of old books and paint, and something that was uniquely him.

     “Because it’s always true”, Solas replied. He pushed away so that they stood at arm’s length instead and attempted a smile.

     “You continue to surprise me, _lethallin_. This time I was less prepared for it.”

     “And that hurt you?”

     “No”, he replied with a slight shake of his head, “no, it didn’t. No more than it already does.”

     “What’s that supposed to mean?” Lea asked. Solas reached out and brushed a single fallen tear from her cheek, the other hand gently holding on to hers.

     “I cannot tell you”, he softly said. “Not now. I need… time.”

     Lea slowly nodded.

     “Alright. But don’t take too long. You know I’ll just pry even more then.”

     Solas smiled.

     “I guessed so.”

     He hesitated and looked around them, something wistful in his gaze.

     “After our journey to the Deep Roads”, he then promised. “I’ll do my best to tell you… what I can. Or show it.”

     “In the Fade?”

     “Yes.”

     Lea nodded as well.

     “After the Deep Roads, then.”

     He let go of her hand and turned away, most likely intending to continue his lonely walk. She called him back.

     “Yes?” he said, turning to face her once more.

     “ _Ir abelas, lethallan_.”

     He stared at her for so long that she wondered if she had botched the words completely, maybe said the opposite of an apology. Then he strode back to her, cradled her head in one hand and pressed a kiss to her brow.

     “ _Ma melava halani_ ”, he murmured. “ _Ma serannas_.”

     Then he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Need you guys to give me opinions on the elvhen here. "Lethallin" is, according to the wiki, meant for a male, "lethallan" for a female and "lethallen" is gender neutral, but in the games Solas and some others uses "lethallin" for female Inquisitors and the same thing happens in Origins with some elves. So should I go with what is "grammatically correct" according to the wiki or leave it as it is - with Solas adressing Lea as "lethallin" and her adressing Solas as "lethallan"?


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Alright. Just tell me one more thing. You can fight, right?_   
>  _“No, I thought I’d cower helplessly while you do all the work”, Bianca replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm._   
>  _“She’s a decent shot”, Varric clarified._   
>  _“Decent?” Bianca said, spinning around to face him. Varric raised his hands in defence._   
>  _“You want me to admit you’re better than me in front of the Inquisitor?”_

As promised, the four of them set out after an early breakfast the next day. Varric led the way along the paths, as usual entertaining all of them with stories of his earlier adventures – half of which Lea believed to have been added for dramatic effect. Solas and Dorian chatted amiably behind her. They always avoided historical topics, even though Lea was quite certain Dorian’s views on elven culture was not the same now as it had been back in Tevinter.

     They stopped for a quick break midday, then continued on until dusk, when Varric got off his horse.

     “The entrance is not far”, he said, “but we can’t ride any further than this. There’s a secluded spot over there where we can keep the horses until we return.”

     “Alright”, Lea said. “Hopefully this won’t take too long. We don’t have that much hay with us.”

     “Easy, Inquisitor”, Varric replied. “We’ll be back out here in no time.”

     The way he said it made her think he was not completely sure about that himself.

     Varric led the way up a path into the mountains. There were stairs cut out into the stone, Lea noted, though some were too worn to resemble stairs unless you saw those still in good shape.

     “There”, Varric said, nodding ahead at a cave opening. It was mostly covered by rocks and boulders that they had to climb past, but once inside they found a proper, wide tunnel with well-maintained stairs further inside.

     “Finally!”

     They all jumped and reached for their weapons, until they realized it was Bianca, stepping out of the shadows of a large boulder.

     “I started to think you weren’t coming”, she continued.

     “Nobody said you had to hang out _inside_ the creepy cave while you waited”, Varric said with a sigh.

     “Well, alright, but we have to make this quick”, Bianca said and came all the way up to them. “These idiots are carrying the red lyrium out in unprotected containers. We don’t want to stick around long enough for it to start… talking to us.”

     “Why do the containers need to be covered?” Lea asked, frowning slightly.

     “Lyrium’s incredibly dangerous in its raw form”, Bianca explained. “It can poison or kill dwarves – and we’re resistant to it! Sometimes it just explodes! No warning or anything.”

     “Basically; only crazy people mine lyrium”, Varric added. Bianca huffed.

     “The Mining Caste doesn’t just sling it into a bucket. It’s carried in special containers that keep it under control. And that’s normal lyrium; the red stuff is worse. I wouldn’t be surprised if most of their miners die just digging it up!”

     _Bloody fucking hell_ , Lea thought. She had read up on lyrium after Cullen had shown his set of it to her and she had already realized that both the natural blue and the unnatural, dangerous red versions were not to be taken lightly. She had, however, not gotten around to what it could do to the miners themselves.

     “How did you find this operation in the first place?” she asked. “There must be hundreds of Deep Reads entrances.”

     “I’ve used this entrance in the past”, Bianca replied and started to walk towards the stairs further in. “Varric’s not the only surface dwarf to explore the deep roads. Though, I’ve got to admit, I was pretty surprised when I came here and found it full of humans.”

     Lea nodded.

     “Alright. Just tell me one more thing. You can fight, right?

     “No, I thought I’d cower helplessly while you do all the work”, Bianca replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

     “She’s a decent shot”, Varric clarified.

     “ _Decent_?” Bianca said, spinning around to face him. Varric raised his hands in defence.

     “You want me to admit you’re better than me in front of the Inquisitor?”

     Bianca rolled her eyes at him, before turning back around.

     “Let’s just get this done.”

     They headed up the stairs, then another set off to their right, and another. They ended up on a bridge leading across a roaring river. There were statues of dwarves lining the bridge – and half-way across was the shadow of a lone guard. Lea crouched down and heard the others follow suit.

     “Any others?” she asked, her voice a low whisper.

     “On the other side of the bridge”, Solas murmured back.

     “Take out the first guy quickly”, Lea said. “Then we move across and take out the next. If we find more, we’ll deal with those once we get there. Our goal is to be as quiet and swift as possible.”

     The others nodded in agreement. Then Solas and Dorian moved out together, using magic to deal a killing blow to the bowman on the bridge. Lea, Varric and Bianca followed, hurried past them and dealt with the guard on the other side. In no time at all, the cave was silent again. Lea wiped the blood from her knives, then took the lead up a new set of stairs. If she walked the wrong way, she trusted that Varric – or Bianca – would tell her.

     She soon realized that it was an old city, partly restored for the miners to use, but mostly in ruins. Her mind drifted to the stories of dwarven cities she had read back on Earth – mainly the ones featured in Tolkien’s books. As they walked through it towards the mines, they found several other guards – and together they took them out as silently as possible. The closer they got, however, the more difficult this became.

     When things finally calmed down, they reached a closed stone door.

     “Do we need a password to this?” Lea asked, sheeting her knives. “Like _Open Sesame_?”

     “What does that even mean?” Bianca asked with a frown. Then she shrugged and walked up to the door.

     “I built this. They probably shut it from the other side when they heard all the ruckus we were making.”

     She pressed a stone to the left of it, then stomped on another, and the door slid open.

     “Ta-da!” she said. Lea just looked at her with a frown.

     “You’ve been here often enough to renovate the cave?” she asked.

     “You already know I’ve used this entrance in the past”, Bianca replied, then shook her head slightly. “I don’t know if Varric’s told you, but the Merchants Guild is cutthroat. Literally. I built these doors to keep rivals from following me down here and arranging ‘accidents’.”

     Lea still did not feel convinced, but still nodded.

     “I guess it’s a good thing you came along, then.”

     Bianca smiled, then turned and led the way into the new part of the cave. Varric was the first to follow.

     “Not sure about her yet”, Dorian murmured.

     “Me neither”, Lea replied. A glance at Solas made her think he agreed.

     In the caves and buildings that followed, the red lyrium started to appear more and more often, either still in the ground or dug free. She kept up quite alright, but she did note that Solas’ and Dorian’s spells did seem slightly weaker. Instead of only needing one to knock someone out, they needed two or three hits. She wondered if it had been a bad idea to bring them instead of Cassandra or Blackwall; she did not want them to get hurt.

     “We are both fine, _lethallin_ ”, Solas said, touching her shoulder briefly after they had fought through another hall of guards and miners.

     “Well, other than feeling tired and having a headache”, Dorian muttered.

     “Tell me if either of you need to rest”, Lea told them, then turned back towards Varric and Bianca, who stood close to another locked door. Bianca was triumphantly lifting a key in the air.

     “Ah-ha!” she said, then hurried over to the door and pushed the key into the lock. It clicked, but did not open. Bianca turned with a grin.

     “They won’t be able to use this entrance again.”

     “Bianca…” Varric said, his tone a warning. Lea narrowed her eyes at them and stepped forward, just as Bianca slipped the key onto a chain next to another of the same make.

     “That’s exactly like your key”, she said with a frown. “How did they get a copy?”

     Bianca’s grin vanished.

     “Well… it’s a funny story. You see, when I got the location, I went and had a look for myself. I found the red lyrium and I… studied it.”

     “Studied it?” Varric exclaimed. “You know what it does to people!”

     “I was doing you a favour!” Bianca snapped back. “I just… wanted to figure it out.”

     “And did you?” Lea asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

     “Actually, yes”, Bianca replied. “I found out that red lyrium… it has the Blight. Do you know what that means, Varric?”

     “That two deadly things combine to form something super-awful?” Varric argued.

     “It means red lyrium – or lyrium in general – is alive!” Bianca corrected. “Or something like it; Blight doesn’t affect minerals. Only animals.”

     She turned back towards Lea.

     “I couldn’t get any further on my own, so I looked for a Grey Warden mage. Blight and magical expertise in one, right? And I found this guy, Larius. He seemed really interested in helping my research, so I gave him a key.”

     “Larius?”

     Varric’s voice echoed in the hall. He looked furious.

     “He was the Grey Warden we met in Corypheus’… oh, shit! Shit! I knew something seemed off!”

     “Who’s Larius?” Lea asked, turning towards the furious dwarf.

     “He was at the Grey Warden prison where we – Hawke, me and our friends – found Corypheus”, Varric replied, “and he definitely wasn’t a mage before.”

     “And why’d you insist on coming with us, Bianca?” Lea asked, turning towards the other dwarf. “You had to know we’d figure out what happened.”

     “Varric told me what people were doing with the red lyrium”, Bianca replied, looking sad. “I… had to help make this right.”

     Lea sighed and glanced back at Dorian and Solas, then at Varric and finally back at Bianca.

     “You couldn’t have known what would happen”, she said.

     “I told her exactly how bad this shit was!” Varric exclaimed. “I told her to keep away from it!”

     “I know I screwed up, but we did fix it”, Bianca argued. “It’s as right as I can make it!”

     “This isn’t one of your machines! You can’t just replace a part and make everything right!”

     “No, but I can try, can’t I?” Bianca shouted. “Or am I supposed to wallow in my mistakes forever, kicking myself, telling stories of what I _should_ have done?”

     “As if I would tell stories about my own mistakes”, Varric snarled.

     “Enough!” Lea roared at them, causing the pair to jump where they stood. “What’s done is done; there’s no point arguing about it.”

     Varric let out a long sigh, then nodded.

     “We’ve done all we can here”, he said and stepped back. “Bianca… you better get home before someone misses you.”

     Then he turned and walked past Dorian and Solas out of the hall. Bianca moved to follow, but hesitated and instead turned towards Lea. Her eyes hardened.

     “Get him killed and I’ll feed you your own eyeballs, Inquisitor.”

     They got back to Skyhold late the next afternoon. Varric had been quiet the whole way there, which meant the only sound other than what the horses produced was the occasional remark from Dorian regarding what they had just experienced. Once back at the fortress, Varric disappeared up the stairs the moment he was off the horse. Lea glanced at Solas and Dorian, then hurried after the dwarf.

     She found him in the almost empty great hall, already nursing a tankard of mead, possibly spiked with something a bit stronger. He glanced back at her and let out a sigh.

     “I’m glad to have answers”, he said, “but… shit.”

     He took a swig of his drink.

     “The second she showed up here, I knew”, he continued and straightened up. “I just… I let this mess happen. I gave her the thaig. And I’m not good at dealing with shit like this.”

     “I don’t think anyone’s equipped any better than you are to deal with this”, Lea replied. Varric shook his head.

     “No, no! The point is… I don’t. I don’t deal with things.”

     He sighed again.

     “If Cassandra hadn’t dragged me here, I’d be in Kirkwall right now, pretending none of this was happening.”

     “I don’t think that’s true”, Lea replied with a slight smile. “You’ve worked as hard as any of us to stop Corypheus.”

     “Is that true?” Varric asked and shook his head, this time mainly to himself. “I don’t even know anymore…”

     He then straightened up and offered her a slight smile – a shadow of his usual grin.

     “Thank you. For your help back there.”

     “After all this, do you think you’ll see Bianca again?” she asked. Varric chuckled.

     “I always do.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Just a slap?” Dorian asked, coming down the stairs. “My, you have already changed. Next thing we know you’ll be talking about babies and… ow!”_   
>  _She had managed a well-timed punch to his arm as he walked by – and earned an offended pout in return._   
>  _“That’s my idea of a slap”, she said with a grin at him._   
>  _“You’re worse than Bull at times”, Dorian said and rolled his eyes, before bidding both her and Solas goodnight._

Solas did not ask her to see him that evening – nor did he send for her the morning after. Lea was reluctant to bring up his promise to tell her what he could; whatever it was, it seemed like it brought him a lot of pain. She wanted to help him, but just like with some of her students back on Earth, the only way she could help was if he let her.

     Soon she fell back into her regular routines at Skyhold. She went on diplomatic missions, made sure the morale stayed high, and spent time with her friends. Dorian kept commenting on how she should make a move on Cullen and even offered to set something up. She refused – and, for once, he promised not to get involved. Leliana received a number of reports from spies placed at the imperial court of Orlais and they all agreed they should head there soon. Josephine had soon managed to obtain an invitation to a ball at the Winter Palace in Halamshiral – which worked as a cover for peace talks between Empress Celene, her usurper cousin Gaspard and the elven ambassador Briala – and also made sure to get clothes tailored for everyone who would be going there. When Lea saw the dress she was supposed to wear she immediately wondered how she would be able to carry weapons. She did not doubt she would need at least the knives she had received from Evelyn – and she would like more than that.

     “We’ll fix it”, Josephine promised, “but you have to look good when attending the ball. You are the Inquisitor, yes, and an important military leader, but at the imperial court you also need to be royalty.”

     Those words certainly did not calm her down. Rather the opposite; the court already sounded imposing and the way Vivienne sometimes spoke about scheming and games… Lea wanted no part of that. Yet she had no choice.

     They would be able to bring a small military force – like all other important guests – and Josephine had somehow managed to make it so that seven of them would be able to be attend the ball as guests.

     “Cullen, Leliana and I should all go with you”, she said. “Leliana knows her agents, I know the diplomacy, and Cullen is our Commander. He’ll arrange our forces around the Winter Palace. The three remaining invitations are up to you to hand out.”

     Lea quickly settled on Vivienne, Dorian and Solas. Three mages, but mainly she chose them due to her close friendship with Solas and Dorian, and Vivienne’s knowledge of the court itself. She also spoke with Cassandra and Blackwall about setting up a camp not far from Halamshiral with a slightly bigger force. The two of them could act as if they were heading somewhere else, on another mission for the Inquisition, but would be nearby in case they needed reinforcements. Cassandra quickly agreed to the plan.

     “I trust Cullen’s choice of men to bring”, she said, “but you are right. If things turn out badly, we need to stand ready.”

     In order to make it seem like the two parties had nothing in common, Cassandra and Blackwall left Skyhold with their force of fifty soldiers a week before the rest of them were meant to head to Halamshiral. To make things seem more accurate, Sera left as well with orders to cause a bit of a ruckus in a town Cassandra and Blackwall would be aiming for. She was good at that – and, apparently, some of her Red Jenny contacts were already there, causing a bit of trouble.

     “It’s a good plan”, Cullen said, standing nearby out in the courtyard as they watched the party leave.

     “Thank you”, Lea said, biting her thumbnail slightly. In her head she still went through the plan, every detail. If something went wrong, her visit to the Orlesian court would be jeopardized. The Inquisition was already a force that caused a bit of unease in both Orlais and Ferelden; moving about unchecked and bringing a larger force than what was allowed near Halamshiral… well, the consequences would be dire.

     “I know you worry”, Cullen said, touching her arm briefly, “but it will be fine. Cassandra and Blackwall – and Sera – know what they have to do and they’ll do it.”

     He turned and moved to walk back to the barracks.

     “Cullen?” she said and spun around after him. He looked back at her.

     “Yes?”

     “I… can we talk?”

     “I believe we already are”, he replied with a small smile.

     “Alone”, Lea clarified. His smile vanished.

     “Alone?” he said. “Oh. Yes, of course.”

     He let her lead the way up on the battlements. Neither of them spoke as they walked out on the path that gave them a view of the valley where Skyhold was located. Already the troops had disappeared around an outcrop and the view was empty of people.

     “It’s… a nice day”, Cullen eventually said, one hand scratching the back of his neck. He looked just as nervous as she felt – which did not make things better for her. She was already terrified of what would happen if she said something he did not agree with, or that he would not be interested in any sort of romantic relationship with her. Maybe she had misinterpreted everything?

     “It is”, she said, swallowing before stopping. Cullen turned to face her. He drew a deep breath before he spoke.

     “What did you wish to discuss?”

     _Here goes nothing_ , Lea thought, before she opened her mouth to reply.

     “I find myself thinking about you… more than… well, all the time, really…”

     Cullen’s gaze flickered down to her lips briefly – or perhaps she imagined that, because the next moment he turned away and started walking again.

     “I… can’t say I haven’t wondered what it would be like”, he admitted, then stopped again and turned to face her. She took a step closer, then another.

     “Then what’s stopping you? What’s holding either of us back?”

     Cullen gave her a nervous smile.

     “I can’t speak for you, only for me”, he said. “You’re the Inquisitor, we’re at war, you’re the most amazing, beautiful woman I’ve ever met and…”

     He fell silent, blushing slightly. Then he took a step closer. She did as well. His eyes were the colour of warm, molten honey – and she felt like drowning in them.

     “I didn’t think it would be possible”, he admitted, his voice quieter now. She smiled slightly.

     “And yet I’m still here.”

     Cullen chuckled, minimizing the distance between them once again by stepping even closer. His breath brushed her face as he spoke.

     “So you are. It seems too much to ask, but I want…”

     He leaned closer, his forehead touching hers. She closed her eyes, pushed forward, wanted to feel his lips on hers as soon as possible… and then the door to the tower opened, making them both jump back. Lea felt her face burn and quickly looked away as one of Cullen’s sentinels neared them, holding a report in his hand, head bowed.

     “Commander. You wanted a copy of Sister Leliana’s report.”

     In the corner of her eye, she saw Cullen grit his teeth and spin around towards the sentinel.

     “What?” he growled threateningly.

     “Sister Leliana’s report”, the sentinel replied, still seemingly oblivious to Cullen’s mood. “You wanted it delivered without delay.”

     Lea wondered if it was possible to sink through the ground there and then. Considering she had moved from one world to another, that should be possible, right? If she just wished hard enough, she might be able to do it.

     “To… your office”, the sentinel suddenly added, now sounding quite nervous. “Right. Right away, ser.”

     She heard him run back the way he had come. She closed her eyes briefly and drew a deep breath.

     “If you need to go we can…”

     She was cut off by Cullen’s lips landing hard on hers, causing her to gasp in surprise. He immediately deepened the kiss and she felt like she actually melted. His hand came up to cradle her head as the kiss turned softer, gentler, yet still so full of longing and need and desire and love that she could hardly keep herself standing. She clutched at his tunic with both hands and kept that grip when he pulled back.

     “I’m sorry”, he said, looking slightly sheepish, “that was… really nice.”

     Lea let out a slightly breathless laugh.

     “That”, she said, meeting his gaze, “was what I’ve wanted for quite some time now.”

     Cullen’s face transformed. He looked relieved, happy, and like he wanted to drink her in like a man dying from thirst. She wondered if she looked the same to him; it was pretty much like how she felt. He leaned his forehead against hers.

     “Good”, he murmured, his arms circling her waist as he pulled her in for another kiss. Quenching her thirst for him a little bit at a time, while also making her desperate for more. For all of him.

     There was no chance for them to keep things private. People had already known about them developing feelings for one another and once someone – either the sentinel who had interrupted them or someone catching sight of them from somewhere else – revealed the truth, the news spread like wildfire through Skyhold. Lea was not even surprised when she walked into the rotunda that evening and was greeted by applauds from the library above.

     “About time”, Dorian called with a grin. Solas, seated in his chair, simply chuckled. He seemed to be in a good mood.

     “Be glad I’m too relieved about things actually working out to slap either of you senseless”, Lea said and sat down in a chair opposite Solas. She could hardly keep herself from smiling; even now, hours later, her lips still tingled at the memory of her and Cullen kissing.

     “Just a slap?” Dorian asked, coming down the stairs. “My, you have already changed. Next thing we know you’ll be talking about babies and… ow!”

     She had managed a well-timed punch to his arm as he walked by – and earned an offended pout in return.

     “That’s my idea of a slap”, she said with a grin at him.

     “You’re worse than Bull at times”, Dorian said and rolled his eyes, before bidding both her and Solas goodnight. Lea turned towards Solas with an arched eyebrow.

     “Have I been so busy with my own romance that I’ve completely failed to notice that Dorian and the Iron Bull have had something going on as well – or is that completely new?”

     “Quite new”, Solas replied. He did not elaborate on the matter. Instead he rose and walked over to the fresco he was painting. The piece he was nearly finished with depicted the Inquisition siding with the mages. The link between it and the picture he had so far only sketched out in coal – the attack on Haven – was a wolf pup and its dead mother. Her and Evelyn.

     “Are you ready?” he asked with his back towards her.

     “Are you?” she asked in turn. She knew he was asking about him showing her what he could of the truth.

     “Yes”, he replied, turning back towards her, “I think I am.”

     He held out his hand towards her and she accepted it, rising from the chair as she did. He then led her towards the fresco. It seemed to open in front of her – and she realized she must already be asleep and in the Fade.

     They stood in a forest, the trees tall with wide trunks. Their feet crunched the leaves that covered the floor and it all felt… very real.

     “Where is this?” Lea asked, brushing her hands against one of the tree trunks. Solas did not reply. His gaze was fixed forward, his hand gripping hers as if it was the only thing that kept him from falling apart. She decided to stay silent and allowed him to lead her through the trees, until they reached a stream. There, Solas stopped.

     Moments later, a large, black wolf burst through the trees on the opposite side of the stream and leaped across it. Its legs gave way as it landed and it yelped in pain, rolling over onto its side. Lea took a step forward, wishing to help, but Solas pulled her back, reminding her that this was not real. This was a memory.

     The wolf attempted to get back up onto its feet, but collapsed once more. It blinked its eyes and whined – and Lea suddenly realized that it had six eyes, three on either side of its snout.

     While she was still staring due to this realization, the wolf began to tremble and its form changed. Its front paws turned to hands, its rear to feet, and suddenly it was not a wolf anymore, but an elf wearing the hide of a wolf as a cloak. He sat up on his knees and touched his own left arm, which looked bent in a bad way. A flash of blue magic appeared from his healthy fingers and snapped the bone back into place. The elf hissed in pain and leaned forward, bracing himself on his healthy hand. He was breathing hard. Once he had regained control of his breathing, he straightened up again and threw his head back so that his face pointed up at the sky.

     And that was when Lea recognized him.

     Solas.

     A much younger Solas, with long, dark brown dreadlocks hanging from the top of his head, the sides shaved off. The jawbone that now hung in a leather cord around his neck, young Solas wore as a headpiece, whole and still white instead of blackened and broken. The scar on his forehead was missing, but the one on his jaw was there; it looked recent.

     She watched as young Solas’ face tightened, his eyes snapping open, gleaming with fury. And then he howled into the sky.

     She woke up in the chair opposite him in the rotunda and stared. Outright stared.

     He looked terrified.

     “You’re Fen’Harel”, she breathed, yet her voice seemed to echo all around them. Solas held her gaze for another second, before he rose and turned away.

     She immediately got up as well, hurried around the table and grabbed his arm.

     “Jesus bloody Christ, Solas”, she said, then embraced him, hard. He stood frozen, stunned, until she slowly started to let go. Then he seemed to wake up from his daze and pulled her back to him, crushing her against his chest.

     “ _Ma serannas_ ”, he whispered. “ _Ma serannas, lethallin, ma serannas_.”

     “What are you thanking me for?” she asked, pushing back so that she could meet his gaze. “I should be thanking you for sharing this with me.”

     “Because you didn’t leave”, Solas replied, his eyes shining with unshed tears. Lea smiled and hugged him again.

     “I won’t leave. Not ever.”

     He leaned his head against hers and let out a long, relieved sigh.

     “When was that?” she asked softly. “How long… how old are you?”

     Solas chuckled.

     “That memory was set a long time before the fall of the elves and the expansion of the Tevinter imperium”, he replied. “I was… some centuries old.”

     “Some centuries old?” Lea asked and looked up at him. “Don’t tell me you’re having a midlife crisis and can’t admit your true age.”

     Solas laughed, the mirth from before returning to his face.

     “That’s not it”, he said. “In years, I would have been nearly 800 by the time that memory took place, but I spent much of it in the Fade – which made my sense of time different. To elves who did not spend as much time in the Fade as I did, I appeared younger, yet often acted older.”

     He let go of her and stepped back.

     “My mind aged, but I didn’t. Though, back then, elves did not age as they do now. The Veil…”

     He fell silent, the smile disappearing from his face. She walked up to him and gave him another hug, which he, this time, immediately returned.

     “I’m here for you”, she said, “whenever you need to talk about it. Alright?”

     “Will you tell the others?” he asked. She could hear the tension in his voice and looked up at him.

     “Of course not”, she replied. “That should be your decision. I’m glad you decided to tell me – now it’s up to you if anyone else should know as well.”

     He nodded, a small smile reappearing on his face. Before releasing her, he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

     “ _Ma serannas_.”

     She smiled at him, then moved towards the door, intending to call it a night.

     “ _Lethallin_.”

     She turned, cocking an eyebrow at him.

     “I’m glad you became the Inquisitor and not Evelyn”, Solas admitted. This made her frown.

     “Why?”

     “I’m not sure someone raised in this world – human, elf, dwarf or Qunari – would have been able to accept what I am. _Who_ I am.”

     She was unable to come up with a good response to that, so instead she simply nodded, wished him goodnight and left.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Your arrival to the court is like a cool wind on a summer’s day.”_   
>  _“I’m delighted to be here, your majesty”, Lea replied._   
>  _“We have heard much of your exploits, Inquisitor”, Celene continued, “many grand tales for long evenings. How do you find Halamshiral?”_

Halamshiral was not far from Skyhold and the journey took them less than a day. As Vivienne owned a house in the city, she put them up as her guests, providing them all with a sort of headquarters for their stay in the city. She also insisted they ride in her carriages up to the Winter Palace’s gates – the women in one, the men in another. And, for some unknown reason, that they leave independently.

     Of course, this meant the men were able to leave much sooner than the women. The only one who fussed with his attire was Dorian – and he took only half as long as Vivienne and Josephine. By the time the two women finally came down the stairs, Lea and Leliana had been close to leaving on their own.

     They all wore shades of red and gold, with plausible details in blue, black and white. Thus, even though they were not all in uniform, they appeared as a unity.

     “The political situation in Halamshiral hangs by a thread”, Josephine said in the carriage on the way to the palace. “The Empress fears our presence could sever it, while Grand Duke Gaspard is only too happy to have us at the ball as his guests. Whether we act as his allies or upset the balance of power, he gains an opportunity.”

     “The Grand Game begins”, Vivienne said with a smile. “Are you ready, my dear?”

     “I have to be”, Lea replied. Truth be told, she was terrified and kept picking at the golden embroidery of her dress.

     “Won’t this be a bit… too much?” she asked after a while. “Orlesian dresses are always much more covered.”

     Vivienne laughed and gestured at her own clothes.

     “Are they?” she asked. “Don’t worry, my dear; you are not Orlesian, and you need to stand out.”

     “And you will”, Leliana replied.

     “I wish I didn’t”, Lea muttered.

     “Cullen will love it”, Josephine pointed out. That made her blush until she was certain her face was now the same colour as the red fabric the golden threads were embroidered on. Other than a stolen kisses and lingering touches, her and Cullen had not done anything too scandalous. Which was both good and bad. Good because she was terrified her inexperience at such… things would disappoint him. Bad because with every kiss, every touch, she wanted him more and more. And pleasing yourself here was not as easy as locking yourself up in the shower back on Earth and doing it with the water pounding on your back.

     Their carriage stopped outside the gates to the Winter Palace’s courtyard. It was already full of people – the vast majority of the Orlesian nobles in their ornate masks. The Inquisition soldiers who had ridden with them – either on horseback or on the seats on the outside of the carriage – arranged themselves in two lines. A corridor for them to walk through. Lea swallowed, took a deep breath, and signalled to the coach driver to open the door.

     She felt the eyes of every Orlesian noble in the courtyard as she walked past the soldiers and they saluted her. One man with a shaved head approached her. He wore ornate armour and an equally ornate golden mask. Lea could only just make out the pleased smile beneath it as he bowed to her.

     “Inquisitor Crowley”, he said, his voice accented in Orlesian, which reminded her a lot of French, “we meet at last. I’ve heard so much about you. Bringing the rebel mages into the ranks of your army was a brilliant move.”

     She forced herself to nod in thanks at him; she did not know if people knew what she or Evelyn had done, or if they saw their actions as something the same person had accomplished.

     “Imagine what the Inquisition could accomplish with the full support of the rightful Emperor of Orlais”, the man continued. Without a doubt, this was Grand Duke Gaspard; Emperor Celene’s cousin and rival.

     “And which one was the rightful one again?” she asked. “I keep getting them confused.”

     Gaspard seemed to smile again behind his mask and bowed with a flourish.

     “Why, the handsome, charming one of course, my lady.”

     He offered her his arm and started to lead her through the courtyard.

     “I am not a man who forgets his friends, Inquisitor”, he continued. “You help me, I’ll help you.”

     She nodded thoughtfully, while looking around for any sign of Solas, Cullen or Dorian. They must already be inside. Gaspard led her towards the palace’s entryway.

     “My lady”, he said, turning towards her again, “are you prepared to shock the court by walking into the Grand Ball with a hateful usurper? They will be telling stories of this until the next age.”

     Lea glanced back at Josephine and Leliana. Vivienne had vanished – no doubt to talk with some nobles she knew.

     “I can’t imagine that crowd has seen anything better than us in their entire lives”, she then said to Gaspard. He laughed slightly.

     “You’re a woman after my own heart, my lady. As a friend, perhaps there is a matter you could undertake this evening?”

     Lea arched an eyebrow at him.

     “This elven woman, Briala”, Gaspard continued, “I suspect she intends to disrupt the negotiations. My people have found these… ambassadors all over the fortifications. Sabotage seems the least of their crimes.”

     She narrowed her eyes at him. _And so it begins_ , she thought, _with suspicions thrown at each other like clumps of horse dung_.

     “Tell me there’s more to your suspicions than ‘the elves were acting dodgy’?”

     “Ambassador Briala used to be a servant of Celene’s”, Gaspard replied. “That is, until my cousin had her arrested for crimes against the empire, to cover up a… political mistake. If anyone in that room wishes Celene harm, Inquisitor, it’s that elf. She certainly has reason.”

     He glanced in through the open doors and sighed.

     “Be as… discreet as possible. I detest the Game, but if we do not play it well, our enemies will make us look like villains.”

     He looked back at her and seemed to smile behind his mask once more.

     “We’re keeping the court waiting, Inquisitor”, he said. “Shall we?”

     Lea glanced back at Josephine, who by now was the only one of her companions who remained.

     “Just a moment”, she said. “I’ll be with you shortly.”

     Gaspard bowed again and walked ahead in through the doors, while Lea fell back to walk next to Josephine.

     “You’re doing good”, Josephine murmured, “but remember; once we get inside, _every_ gesture is measured and valued – and assessed for a weakness.”

     “Sounds absolutely delightful”, Lea muttered. “I’m surprised we haven’t invited the court to dinner at Skyhold.”

     Josephine smiled slightly – a smile that quickly vanished.

     “The Game is like Wicked Grace played to the death”, she said, referring to the popular card game that Lea thought was a bit like poker. “You must _never_ reveal your cards. When you meet the Empress, the eyes of the entire court will be upon you. You’re… safer staring down Corypheus.”

     “Wonderful. Straight into the belly of the beast we go, then.”

     Josephine gave her a nervous glance and nodded.

     “Everything will be fine”, she then said. Lea was not sure if it was to her or to herself.

     Once they reached the doors to the great ballroom, Gaspard took her arm again and walked in with her by his side. The room looked like any ballroom she had imagined while reading stories of princes and princesses – but with people wearing golden or silver masks to cover either half or all of their faces. A man stood at the top of the stairs and asked for their names, before waving them forward. They started to walk down the right staircase.

     “And now presenting”, he called behind them, “Grand Duke Gaspard de Chalons.”

     Gaspard let go of her arm, walked forward and bowed towards the masked Empress Celene on the balcony opposite them. Josephine had told her this would happen; that she would enter alongside Gaspard, but be presented alone. And asked to greet the Empress alone.

     “And accompanying him”, the announcer said as Gaspard descended the next set of stairs to the ballroom floor, leaving her alone in the spotlight, “Lady Inquisitor Crowley of Skyhold.”

     She straightened her back, focused on the Empress dressed in blue and gold, and curtsied. The Empress curtsied back, signalling that she could descend the stairs. As she did, the announcer continued his introduction of her.

     “Vanquisher of the rebel mages of Ferelden, crusher of the vile apostates of the Mage Underground…”

     _What fiction have they read?_ she thought as she continued forward, forcing the smile to stay on her face.

     “Champion of the blessed Andraste herself.”

     Gaspard offered her his arm as she reached the ballroom floor, chuckling.

     “Did you see their faces?” he asked. “Priceless.”

     Lea smiled at him, before focusing back on Celene. Behind her, the announcer continued with her companions.

     “Accompanying the Inquisitor are Madame Vivienne, First Enchanter of the Circle of Magi, Enchanter of the Imperial Court, mistress of the Duke of Ghislain.”

     Lea glanced back at Vivienne as she descended, the pale gold of her dress perfectly matched to her dark skin. She did not show any kind of sorrow upon hearing her late lover’s name – at least not unless you knew where to look. Lea knew; she might not be Vivienne’s closest friend, but she knew how she tensed the muscles of her jaw ever so slightly when the Duke of Ghislain was mentioned in passing.

     “The Lady Inquisitor’s elven serving man, Solas.”

     Lea blinked and had to force herself not to look offended. Solas was no servant. Where the hell had they gotten that from? As her friend descended the stairs after Vivienne, he only gave her a small smile and a shake of his head to let her know not to act on it. If something needed to be dealt with, he would do it himself.

     “Lord Dorian Pavus, member of the Circle of Vyrantium, son of Lord Magister Halward Pavus of Asariel.”

     Dorian was smirking like a satisfied cat as he descended, looking at groups of Orlesian nobles to assess their reaction to him being there; a Tevinter at the very heart of Orlais.

     “Ser Cullen Stanton Rutherford of Honnleath.”

     Lea eyes snapped to the man descending the stairs behind Dorian and felt her body grow warm. Cullen did bow to Celene, of course, but whenever he was not obligated to look at the Empress, his eyes were glued to her. Dark like burned honey. He looked like a hunter who had spotted his prey – and she was a willing victim to his arrows.

     She completely lost track of what the announcer said as Cullen’s eyes kept setting her aflame. He kept his distance once on the floor, knowing his place in this setting, but that did not matter. She felt as if he was right there, his eyes a caress along her body.

     “Let us go greet my cousin”, Gaspard said, escorting her across the ballroom floor. If he had noticed what was happening between her and Cullen, he did not mention it.

     As they neared the balcony on the opposite side of the room, Lea noted the woman standing on Celene’s right. She wore a crème dress detailed in black, and a golden mask with the same details as Gaspard’s, marking them as family.

     “Cousin”, Gaspard greeted, “my dear sister.”

     “Grand Duke”, Celene said with a smile, “we are always honoured when your presence graces our court.”

     “Don’t waste my time with pleasantries, Celene”, Gaspard replied. “We have business to conclude.”

     “We will meet for the negotiations after we have seen to our other guests”, Celene replied. Gaspard tensed next to Lea, then released her arm and bowed.

     “Inquisitor”, he murmured to her, before walking away. She turned back towards Celene and the other woman – Gaspard’s sister.

     “Lady Inquisitor”, Celene said, still smiling, “we welcome you to the Winter Palace. Allow us to present our cousin, the Grand Duchess of Lydes, without whom this gathering would never have been possible.”

     “What an unexpected pleasure”, the Grand Duchess said, sounding less than pleased. “I was not aware the Inquisition would be part of the festivities. We will certainly speak later, Inquisitor.”

     She bowed slightly, before walking away. Lea quickly turned her arrival back to the Empress. Celene smiled.

     “Your arrival to the court is like a cool wind on a summer’s day.”

     “I’m delighted to be here, your majesty”, Lea replied.

     “We have heard much of your exploits, Inquisitor”, Celene continued, “many grand tales for long evenings. How do you find Halamshiral?”

     Lea smiled.

     “I’ve never seen anything that can be compared to the Winter Palace.”

     Celene smiled as well, looking pleased.

     “We hope you will find time to take in some of its beauty. Feel free to enjoy the pleasures of the ballroom, Inquisitor. We look forward to watching you dance.”

     Lea gave her another smile and curtsied, before walking off towards the left section of the ballroom. Leliana waved her in behind a pillar.

     “What did the Duke say?” she asked, keeping her voice low.

     “He points a finger at Ambassador Briala”, Lea replied and linked her arm through Leliana’s, much like other pairs walked through the ballroom. Leliana nodded thoughtfully.

     “The Ambassador is up to something, but she can’t be our focus”, she said. “The best place to strike at Celene is from her side.”

     She nodded at a bench and did not speak another word until they were both seated.

     “Empress Celene is fascinated by mysticism; foreseeing the future, speaking with the dead, that sort of rubbish. She has an occult advisor; an apostate who charmed the Empress and key members of the court as if by magic. I’ve had dealings with her in the past; she’s ruthless and capable of anything.”

     “How can Celene openly keep an apostate at the Imperial Court?” Lea asked.

     “The Imperial Court has always had an official position for a mage”, Leliana replied, “but before now it was little better than being court jester. Vivienne was the first to turn that position into a true source of political power, and when the Circles rebelled, technically, every mage became an apostate.”

     Lea nodded, eyes moving from group to group in the hall.

     “It’s worth investigating. This place… it’s playing with my mind. I’m seeing threats and enemies everywhere.”

     “You’re doing good so far”, Leliana replied with a small smile, which quickly vanished. “I’ll coordinate with our spies. Once done, I’ll be in the ballroom.”

     She rose and vanished into the crowd. Lea took a moment to gather herself, before she rose and started to walk through the room as well. She exchanged words with a few Orlesian nobles, mindful of how she worded her sentences, and was grateful when she spotted Dorian near one of the buffet tables. He smiled as she approached.

     “Having fun?” he asked.

     “If fun means grinding my teeth to dust at the way some of these people speak, then yes, very much so.”

     Dorian chuckled and handed her a glass of wine.

     “This is all so familiar”, he said, toasting with his own glass. “I half expect my mother to materialize from the crowd and criticize my manners.”

     “So a party in Tevinter is just like this, then?” Lea asked.

     “You could almost mistake this for a soiree in the Imperium”, Dorian agreed. “The same double-dealing, elegant poison, canapés… it’s lacking only a few sacrificial slaves and some blood magic.”

     “Don’t give them any ideas”, Lea muttered and sipped on her wine. Dorian chuckled again.

     “The night _is_ still young.”

     She rolled her eyes at him.

     “Have you seen anything important?”

     “Other than an overabundance of lavender perfume? No, nothing extraordinary.”

     She smiled, then put the glass back on a tray. Drinking too much tonight would not be a good idea.

     “Save me a dance for later, will you?” she said.

     “Really?” Dorian said with a smirk. “You want to dance with the evil magister – in front of the whole Orlesian court? Scandalous!”  
     She rolled her eyes at him again, before continuing through the hall.

     Cullen was the next one she spotted. His lips turned up in a small smile as he saw her coming towards him, his eyes turning the colour of burnt honey again, making her tremble.

     “You look… so beautiful”, he murmured when she was close enough to hear him.

     “Thank you”, she replied. “You don’t look too shabby yourself.”

     He chuckled slightly, then glanced up. She followed his gaze, noticing a group of masked Orlesian women. They giggled and quickly turned away.

     “You’ve attracted a following”, she noted, feeling a spike of jealousy in the pit of her stomach.

     “I don’t know what they want”, Cullen sighed, “but they won’t leave me alone.”

     “Not enjoying the attention, then?”

     “Hardly”, Cullen replied, turning his gaze back to hers, “besides, yours is the only attention worth having.”

     She was quite certain her blush was the same colour as her dress.

     “Would you care to dance?” she asked once she felt that she was back in control. “Either now or later…”

     “No, thank you.”

     She blinked.

     “Oh.”

     “No, I didn’t…” Cullen begun, then sighed and looked like he wanted to slap himself. “Maker’s breath! I’ve been answering that question so many times I’m doing it automatically by now. I’m… not one for dancing. The Templars never attended balls.”

     “So you’re not enjoying yourself at all, then?” Lea asked. She desperately wished she could close the distance between them, lean against him and draw on his strength, but here… it would not be a good idea if they appeared too close. Her blush might have already made Cullen a target for those who wished to harm her – or vice versa.

     “At this point, the headache I’m developing is preferable to the company”, Cullen replied, then softened his gaze. “You look like you agree – and you’re being noticed by quite a few more people than I am.”

     “Don’t remind me”, Lea muttered. His hand twitched, as if he wanted to reach out and hold her.

     “Be careful”, he said. “There are very few people here that we can trust.”

     “I know”, Lea said, then drew a deep breath and steeled herself to leave. She looked out across the ballroom and spotted Solas by one of the windows.

     “I’ll talk to you soon”, she told Cullen. He gave her a sharp nod – and then she was off through the crowd again. Solas gave her a small smile as she approached.

     “I do adore the heady blend of power, intrigue, danger and sex that permeates these events”, he said.

     “You seem more comfortable than I expected”, Lea replied, “especially considering your introduction.”

     “I find it good that they believe me to be nothing but a servant”, Solas countered. “They barely notice me – yet I notice all there is about them.”

     He chuckled.

     “It’s certainly interesting; a whole nation of masked men and women who do not notice the society of servants.”

     “So you’re suggesting I do?” Lea asked. “Notice the servants, watch what they’re doing?”

     “They see and hear everything – and people here forget that they do”, Solas replied. “They’re speaking of disappearances in the servants’ quarters, but it seems the key to one of the rooms has been conveniently lost, so no one’s able to investigate.”

     She nodded.

     “I need to get out of this ballroom and look around a bit more. Which way’s the fastest?”

     Solas nodded subtly towards a narrow door in the corner of the room.

     “I wouldn’t say it’s the best, though”, he added. “Everyone’s watching you tonight. Leaving through a door meant for servants…”

     “Crap”, Lea muttered, “does this mean I have to walk the entire way around this bloody place again?”

     He chuckled.

     “I do not envy you.”

     She managed a smile at him.

     “Let me know if you find out about something.”

     “Hunt well”, he replied. Then she was off through the ballroom again. She kept the smile on her face, chatted with a few Orlesians, denied a few dances, and then she was up on the balustrade and able to walk out into one of the nearby rooms. The sound died down behind her as the door closed once again.

     “Well, well, well…”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The floor was covered in blood. Two elven servants lay dead in front of a destroyed bookcase._   
>  _“These must be some of the missing elven servants”, Lea noted, trying to remain calm._   
>  _“The corpses are still warm”, Solas said, kneeling down next to one of them. “Whoever did this might still be down here.”_

She spun around, hand reaching for the one knife she had managed to hide within the folds of her dress. A woman came down a set of stairs near the door. Her hair was raven black and her eyes… yellow.

     “What have we here?” she said, smirking and looking like a cat who had found itself a mouse for dinner. “The leader of the new Inquisition, the fabled Herald of the Faith, delivered from the grasp of the Fade by the hand of blessed Andraste herself.”

     She reached the bottom of the stairs and put her hands on her hips as she regarded Lea.

     “What could bring such an exalted creature here, to the Imperial Court, I wonder? Do even you know?”

     Lea loosened the grip on her knife and smiled. She would not let this woman intimidate her.

     “We may never know”, she replied. “Courtly intrigues and all of that.”

     “Such intrigues obscure much, but not all”, the woman replied, smiling slightly again. Less intimidating this time.

     “I am Morrigan”, she continued. “Some call me advisor to Empress Celene on matters of the arcane.”

     Lea had to force herself not to stare as the woman walked past her towards the balcony overlooking the ballroom. _Morrigan?_ she thought. She was a story; a nightmare meant to frighten children. How could she be a real person – and here at the Imperial Court, and be the woman Leliana had hinted at before?

     “You”, Morrigan said, “have been very busy this evening, hunting in every dark corner of the Palace.”

     Leliana’s agents. It seemed they had been noticed by at least this woman. Question was; had something else happened to them thanks to this?

     Morrigan stopped on the balcony, turning to face Lea again.

     “Perhaps you and I hunt the same prey?”

     “I don’t know”, Lea replied, narrowing her eyes. “Do we?”

     Morrigan laughed.

     “You are being coy.”

     “I’d call it careful.”

     “Not unwise, here of all places”, Morrigan admitted. “Allow me to speak first, then.”

     She waved them on, away from the balcony and back into the corridor that separated the ballroom from the grand library – which Lea would very much like to take a peek into.

     “Recently I found, and killed, an unwelcome guest within these very walls”, Morrigan explained. “An agent of Tevinter. So I offer you this, Inquisitor: a key found on the Tevinter’s body.”

     She handed over the key without any sort of fuss, any promise of help. Lea still did not trust her.

     “Where it leads”, Morrigan continued, “I cannot say. Yet if Celene is in danger, I cannot leave her side long enough to search. You can.”

     “Yet you left Celene alone to speak with me?” Lea said.

     “I must return to her anon, but she is safe for now”, Morrigan replied. “It would be a great fool who strikes at her in public, in front of all her court and the imperial guard.”

     “And what’s your interest in keeping Empress Celene safe? Are you her bodyguard?”

     Morrigan laughed again.

     “Do I seem like a bodyguard to you?” she asked. “No. If anything were to happen to Celene, eyes would turn first to her ‘occult advisor’. Even if they knew otherwise. There are sharks in the water, and I will not fall prey to them. Not now, not ever.”

     Solas’ words of the missing servants and the locked door came back to her.

     “I have an idea about where this key might lead”, she admitted. “The servants’ quarters. People have gone missing from there.”

     Morrigan nodded approvingly.

     “Then I suggest you proceed with caution, Inquisitor. Enemies are always around – and not all of them are aligned with Tevinter.”

     Then, just like that, she was gone in the crowd. Lea clutched the key in her hand, then walked back to the balcony and gave the subtle signal with her hand. She knew at least one of her companions would see it – and alert the others that they needed to meet.

     “What have you found?” Cullen asked as he approached, followed by the others.

     “Morrigan”, Lea replied, looking at Leliana while holding out the key. “She gave me this. It was on a Tevinter agent she killed.”

     She closed her hand around the key again.

     “Solas listened in on the servants”, she continued. “They’re speaking of disappearances in the servants’ quarters – but one of the door’s been locked and the key missing.”

     “Ah”, Dorian said, “so here is the key.”

     “It’s worth investigating. But we cannot head down there like this.”

     “Then it is a good thing we planned ahead for this situation”, Vivienne said with a smile. “This way, my dears.”

     Before Lea was able to leave, Cullen’s hand closed around her arm.

     “Be careful”, he whispered.

     “You too”, she replied. He gave her a quick smile before he let go.

     Vivienne had brought their armour and weapons in a hidden trunk on the back of her carriage. Some of Leliana’s spies had then sneaked these things into a room that they had made safe for all of them. Despite the beauty of her red dress, Lea felt relieved to pull it off and instead put on a shirt, pants, a tunic and her belt, as well as her armour. The weight of both of her knives – not just one – was also comforting.

     They then took the narrow corridors used by servants through the palace until they reached the lower levels. There were servants in the kitchen who looked stunned to see them, but no one attacked. Lea led the way to a closed door at the end of the corridor and shoved the key into the lock. It clicked as she turned it.

     “Good job”, Dorian said, then walked ahead in through the door.

     The floor was covered in blood. Two elven servants lay dead in front of a destroyed bookcase.

     “These must be some of the missing elven servants”, Lea noted, trying to remain calm.

     “The corpses are still warm”, Solas said, kneeling down next to one of them. “Whoever did this might still be down here.”

     “There’s a garden out here”, Vivienne said, “and there’s one more body by the fountain.”

     They headed outside – and Lea frowned as they drew closer to the corpse Vivienne had seen. This was no servant; this was an Orlesian noble.

     “What was he doing here?” she asked, kneeling down with a frown.

     “Is that the Chalons family crest?” Dorian said, kneeling as well and pulling the knife free from the body. “What have you been up to, Gaspard?”

     “I’d say it’s time we…” Lea begun, before screams from the opposite side of the garden drew her attention. She got up and pulled her knives free from her belt as an elven servant ran in through the gate, chased by a man dressed like a harlequin. He moved fast and sliced the servant’s throat just as Lea threw her knife and her companions sent off their spells – but he avoided them all. In the next instance he was up on the wall above them, peering down at them from behind his mask.

     “How did…” Lea begun.

     “Venatori agents!” Solas warned, drawing her attention back to the gate. She immediately adjusted her grip on her remaining knife and grabbed the dagger Dorian tossed her way with her other hand, then charged forward alongside her companions. Four against four – and they beat them easily.

     “There are more nearby”, Vivienne said, casting a spell to sense their enemies.

     “Then we’ll get to them before they get to us – or the Empress”, Lea decided and allowed Vivienne to lead the way.

     They found a group of five this time – more prepared, more organised after having seen from afar what happened to their companions. It meant that disposing of them took longer – and one nearly got away. Lea was the first to react and pulled out her remaining knife, took aim, then frowned when the knife she had previously thrown hit the man straight in the face. From another direction.

     “Fancy meeting you here”, an Orlesian accented voice said as a woman stepped into the building. Elven, but definitely no servant, and wearing an Orlesian mask in silver. Ambassador Briala. Her smile was that of a fox.

     “Inquisitor Crowley”, she said, “what a surprise! My reports said you were terribly boring.”

     Lea had a sharp retort on her tongue, but a hand on her arm from Solas stopped her. Briala noted it with what Lea could just make out inside the cut-outs for the eyes as a raised, inquisitive eyebrow.

     “We haven’t been properly introduced, have we?” she then said. “I am Ambassador Briala.”

     “Right, and whose ambassador are you exactly?” Lea asked. Briala cocked her head at Solas and shook her head, as if saying _How do you stand this woman?_

     “If the nobility is going to treat elves as if we are not citizens, we may as well have the trappings of a foreign power”, she then replied. Lea quietly agreed with her argument. She had seen the way elves were treated here – and she did not like it. It gave her flashbacks to what she had learned in history class.

     “You cleaned this place out”, Briala continued. “It will take a month to get all the Tevinter blood off the marble. I came down to save or avenge my missing people, but you beat me to it.”

     She then nodded towards the courtyard.

     “The Council of Herald’s emissary in the courtyard… that’s not your work, is it?”

     “No”, Lea replied. “He was dead when we arrived.”

     “I expected as much”, Briala sighed. “You may have arrived with the Grand Duke, but you don’t seem to be doing his dirty work.”

     She shook her head.

     “I knew he was smuggling in chevaliers, but killing a council emissary? Bringing Tevinter assassins into the palace? Those are desperate acts. Gaspard must be planning to strike tonight.”

     Lea narrowed her eyes in thought. Gaspard had not seemed desperate when she walked in with him, other than asking Celene about when the negotiations would take place. Yet, after what she had seen of what the Orlesians called the Grand Game – with all its scheming and double crossing – she was not sure anymore. Gaspard might have claimed to despise the Game, but that did not make it true.

     “We’ll keep an eye out. That’s why we’re here.”

     Briala nodded.

     “I misjudged you, Inquisitor”, she then admitted. “You might just be an ally worth having.”

     She looked again at Solas.

     “After all”, she continued, “it seems you do not keep elves bound to servitude, regardless of what was said in the ballroom.”

     Lea narrowed her eyes again. If Briala had eyes and ears within the Inquisition – or at least people who had observed them outside of Skyhold – she would already know Solas was far from a servant. Briala only gave her a small, cunning smile.

     “I know which way the wind is blowing”, she said, “and I’d bet coin you’ll be part of the peace talks before the night is over. And if you happen to lean a little bit our way? It could prove advantageous – to us both. Just a thought.”

     Then she climbed out through one of the windows and disappeared into the night.

     “There’s so much conniving and backstabbing here”, Dorian mused. “It makes me homesick.”

     “We have to get you back to the ballroom, my dear”, Vivienne noted. “If too many start to wonder where you’ve gone, it could prove the opposite of advantageous for us.”

     Lea only nodded. She did not speak a word as they headed back to the room where they had previously changed, or when Vivienne helped her get back into the red dress and made sure there were no specks of blood or grime anywhere.

     “We’ll wait for you here”, the Orlesian mage said, before urging her out through the door.

     The moment Lea stepped inside the doors of the ballroom, the Grand Duchess who had stood with Empress Celene – Gaspard’s sister – swooped towards her and linked their arms together.

     “Inquisitor Crowley”, she said with a pleasant smile, “we met briefly before. I am Grand Duchess Florianne de Chalons. Welcome to my party.”

     She seemed to have changed her attitude completely. Lea did not trust her.

     “Is there something I can do for you, Your Grace?” she asked, putting on a pleasant smile of her own.

     “Indeed you can”, Florianne replied. “I believe tonight, you and I are both concerned by the actions of a… certain person.”

     She walked towards the stairs leading down to the ballroom floor.

     “Come, dance with me. Spies will not hear us on the dance floor.”

     Lea arched an eyebrow slightly. If Florianne had information, she needed to get it, but if she was after something more than a dance… things would definitely get complicated.

     “Very well”, she still replied. “Shall we dance, your grace?”

     Florianne smiled.

     “I’d be delighted.”

     Together they walked down the stairs, just as one song ended and the orchestra prepared for a new one. They curtsied to one another, as did all the other dancers who wished to grace the dance floor, and then they began to dance.

     “You are very secretive with where you are from”, Florianne noted. “How much do you know of our little war?”

     “I assure you; the effects of this war reach far beyond the borders of the Orlesian Empire.”

     “Perhaps it does”, Florianne agreed. “I should not be surprised to find the empire is the centre of everyone’s world.”

     She sighed and looked towards Celene’s balcony.

     “It took great effort to arrange tonight’s negotiations. Yet one party would use this occasion for the blackest of reasons. The security of the Empire is at stake – and neither one of us wishes to see it fall.”

     Lea made herself raise an eyebrow at the Grand Duchess, while flawlessly continuing with the dance. Josephine had taught her the latter – Leliana the former, meaning how to play the Game. Not until now had she felt the need to actually do it perfectly; there was simply something about how Florianne behaved that made her want to… outshine her.

     “Do we both want that, Lady Florianne?” she asked.

     “I hope we are of one mind on this.”

     “In times like these, it’s hard to tell friend from foe”, Lea continued. “Is it not, Your Grace?”

     Florianne smiled politely.

     “I know you arrived here a as guest of my brother, Gaspard”, she said, “and that you have been everywhere in the Palace…”

     Again, mainly Leliana’s agents. Though after their little excursion to the servants’ quarters, Lea had seen a bit of the Palace as well.

     “You are a curiosity to many, Inquisitor”, Florianne continued, “and a matter of concern to some.”

     “And which am I to you, Your Grace?”

     “A little of both, actually.”

     Lea smiled, a gesture that Florianne returned. They were both fishing for information – and gave little.

     “This evening is of great importance, Inquisitor”, the Grand Duchess said. “I wonder what role you will play in it. Do you even yet know who is friend and who is foe? Who in the court can be trusted?”

     “An excellent question”, Lea admitted. “I might ask the same of you, Your Grace.”

     Florianne was quiet for quite some time after that. Lea wondered if that meant she had struck a nerve – or if she had hinted at some information about herself.

     “In the Winter Palace, everyone is alone”, Florianne eventually said. “It cannot have escaped your noticed that certain parties are engaged in dangerous machinations tonight.”

     “And here I thought ‘dangerous machinations’ were the national sport in Orlais.”

     Florianne laughed quietly, then leaned slightly closer, in time with the dance.

     “You have little time”, she said, speaking faster now. “The attack will come soon. You must stop Gaspard before he strikes. In the royal wing’s garden, you will find the captain of my brother’s mercenaries. He knows all Gaspard’s secrets.”

     She pulled back and they both spun out, before turning to face each other and curtsy.

     “I’m sure you can persuade him to be forthcoming”, Florianne added with a pleasant smile, just as the court surrounding them applauded the dance.

     “We’ll see what the night has in store, won’t we?” Lea replied with an equally pleasant smile.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The spymaster let out a disgusted sound._   
>  _“That man would truly do anything to become emperor.”_   
>  _“Then the attack on Empress Celene will happen tonight”, Cullen said._   
>  _“Warning Celene is pointless”, Josephine pointed out. “She needs these talks to succeed – and to flee would admit defeat.”_   
>  _“Then perhaps we should let her die”, Leliana suggested._

She left the dance floor and spotted Josephine by the doors out to the corridor. Quickly she made her way over there. As the door to the ballroom closed, quieting the sound, Josephine grinned.

     “You’ll be the talk of the court for months!” she happily announced. “We should take you dancing more often.”

     “Mind if I politely decline that?” Lea said with a small smile of her own, just as Leliana and Cullen materialised as well. Cullen’s eyes burned into her once more; he must have seen the dance, and something in his gaze… was he jealous?

     “Were you _dancing_ with Grand Duchess Florianne?” Leliana asked. Lea hardly heard the question as Cullen’s hand came up to the small of her back, where the dress was only the golden mesh that also covered her shoulders and upper chest. His gloved fingers made small circles against her skin.

     “More importantly”, he said, speaking as if he was not purposely trying to drive her insane, “what happened in the servants’ quarters? I heard there was fighting.”

     “We found a group of Venatori”, Lea replied, steadying her voice and trying to ignore the way Cullen now ran his finger along her spine. “And Gaspard’s dagger – in the back of an emissary from the Council of Heralds.”

     Leliana had told her about the Council before they came here. They were the most important members of the imperial court, other than the royals themselves, and they were involved in the peace talks. Now the spymaster let out a disgusted sound.

     “That man would truly do anything to become emperor.”

     “Then the attack on Empress Celene _will_ happen tonight”, Cullen said.

     “Warning Celene is pointless”, Josephine pointed out. “She needs these talks to succeed – and to flee would admit defeat.”

     “Then perhaps we should let her die”, Leliana suggested. Lea snapped her head towards her, eyes wide, and Cullen’s fingers stilled on her back. Josephine gasped.

     “I thought we were here to _stop_ the assassination!” Lea exclaimed.

     “Listen to me carefully, Inquisitor”, Leliana replied, her voice hard. “What Corypheus wants is chaos. Even with Celene alive, that could still happen. To foil his plan, the empire must remain strong. Which means that, this evening, _someone_ must emerge victorious.”

     “And it doesn’t need to be Celene”, Cullen filled in, following Leliana’s trail of thoughts. Lea turned to stare at him as well.

     “Do you realize what you’re suggesting, Leliana?” Josephine hissed.

     “Sometimes the best path is not the easiest one”, Leliana replied.

     “So you’re asking _me_ to decide what’s best for Orlais?” Lea asked. She was surprised at how calm and collected she sounded – she certainly felt the opposite of that.

     “We should support Celene”, Josephine said. “She _is_ the rightful ruler – why would we say otherwise?”

     “Because she led Orlais to this point”, Cullen answered. “I’d say Gaspard – provided the evidence against him is false.”

     “I would suggest Briala”, Leliana argued. “She could bring true peace, not only to the empire but also to its elves.”

     Lea wanted to shout at them to shut up. They were asking her to pick a culprit and crown an emperor or empress – and she despised this whole court. If not for the fact that Orlais was what stood between Ferelden and Tevinter – and Corypheus and the Venatori – she would have called it a night and left these masked lords and ladies to solve their own problems.

     “I can’t decide this”, she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Not yet.”

     “You must”, Leliana argued. “Even inaction is a decision, Inquisitor.”

     “Oh, don’t give me that talk!” Lea growled. “I can’t make a decision about this because I have no bloody idea who’d be the better choice – or who the actual culprit in this place is. I’m looking at a broken jigsaw puzzle here. I need evidence – clear, crisp evidence, not rumours spread by their enemies.”

     Leliana opened her mouth to reply, then sighed and nodded.

     “I understand. What did Grand Duchess Florianne tell you?”

     “She said Gaspard’s mercenary captain is in the royal wing”, Lea replied, “and that he knows about the assassination.”

     “Which could be a trap”, Cullen said, his fingers tensing against her back.

     “Or a lead”, Josephine countered. “Perhaps it’s a good idea to search that wing for further clues.”

     “Can you get me access?” Lea asked, looking at Leliana. She nodded.

     “I’ll send someone ahead to create diversions and make sure you get through the doors that would otherwise stay locked.”

     She bowed slightly, before hurrying off.

     “In the meantime, get our men into position”, Lea said, addressing Cullen and Josephine, “and send a message via raven to Cassandra, Blackwall and Sera. Let them know we might require their aid, if things go awry.”

     “At once”, Josephine agreed and hurried off. Cullen lingered, despite her order to get the men ready. Then he pulled her with him into a nearby alcove and kissed her hard, desperate. She pushed back with just as much force, needing him, all of him. They both knew, however, that time was against them and pulled apart.

     “Be careful”, Cullen whispered against her lips, before he walked away through the corridor.

     Back in the room where Dorian, Solas and Vivienne had waited for her to return, she quickly changed while telling them of what had happened in the ballroom.

     “The Grand Duchess”, Solas said, sounding thoughtful. “She sounds like a delight.”

     “I trust her even less than I trust the others here”, Lea said, fastening her knives to her belt. “She… played the Game too well.”

     “So you’re starting to see through it”, Vivienne said with a smile. “Good. That will make every other visit you make here a lot easier.”

     Lea decided not to answer that. Mainly because she, in fact, would rather prefer if this was her one and only dealing with the Orlesian court.

     “Keep your eyes and ears open – for anything”, she said as they, once again, took the narrow corridors meant for servants to reach the royal wing. They found the doors there already open, as promised. Lea eyed the doors to the various quarters and eventually settled on the one clearly marked as belonging to the empress herself – because, from inside, she heard sounds.

     As the door opened, she jumped back, straight into Solas, and covered her eyes. Her companions made surprised noises, before they realized just what had made her react in this way. Dorian started to laugh.

     “Ah, Orlesians”, he chuckled. Lea drew a deep breath, collected herself, then lowered her hand and walked into the room, up to the bed, where a naked man was tied spread eagle. He was blushing furiously.

     “What… happened?” she asked, not sure if she was equally embarrassed as him – or simply found this hilarious, because she was definitely trying to hold back a laugh.

     “It’s not what it looks like”, the man quickly replied. “Honestly, I… would have preferred if it were what it looks like.”

     Lea raised an eyebrow at him, prompting him to continue.

     “The empress led me to believe I would be… rewarded for betraying the Grand Duke. This… was not what I hoped for.”

     “I can imagine what you thought your reward would be”, Lea replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

     “Please”, the man gasped, “I beg you, don’t tell Gaspard!”

     He pulled at his ropes, to no avail.

     “The empress beguiled me!” he continued. “Into giving her information about… plans for troop movements in the palace tonight. She knows everything! Everything! The duke’s surprise attack has been countered before it ever began.”

     Lea raised both her eyebrows this time. _Well, how about that_ , she thought. Celene had known about Gaspard’s plans – and was most likely intending to embarrass him by standing there and announcing it to the court, when he tried to make his move.

     “The moment he strikes, she’ll have him arrested for treason”, the man continued, confirming her thoughts.

     “Then I’ll make you a new deal”, Lea said. “I’ll protect you from Gaspard if you’re willing to testify about Celene’s trap.”

     “I’ll do anything!” the man quickly agreed. “Anything!”

     Lea smiled, then pulled out one of her knives and cut him loose. Once up from the bed, he quickly grabbed a discarded cloak from the floor and wrapped it about himself.

     “Get dressed”, Lea ordered, “then go to the ballroom. Look for any members of the Inquisition; Commander Cullen, Ambassador Josephine or Lady Leliana. Tell them I sent you. If they want proof that it was me and not anyone else, tell them you were sent by Lady Kathleen Crowley of Earth.”

     “At once, my lady”, the man replied and attempted a bow, then quickly realized he would then be presenting much of himself again, blushed a dark red and hurried out through the door.

     “Seen anything else in here?” Lea asked once he was gone.

     “I believe he was all the evidence we needed in here”, Solas replied with a smirk. She smiled back and shook her head, nearly repeating Dorian’s earlier phrase about Orlesians.

     “Next door, then.”

     As they approached this next set of rooms, Lea paused with a frown and flexed her left hand. There was a faint throbbing coming from the Anchor.

     “Are you alright?” Solas asked.

     “I’m not sure”, she replied. The throbbing ceased slightly and she shook her head, dismissing the thought. For now. Instead she opened the door in front of them and was met by the sight of an elven servant crawling backwards on the floor, away from a harlequin. They both looked up, but Lea was already rushing into the room. Instinctively, she kicked the harlequin in the chest and sent him – or her – falling out of an open window.

     There was no thud of a body hitting the ground below.

     Lea shook her head, ignoring the fact that this, logically, did not make sense, and knelt in front of the servant.

     “Are you alright?” she asked. The servant nodded.

     “I’m… I don’t think I’m hurt”, she managed to get out, her voice trembling. Then she got up on her feet.

     “No one’s supposed to be here”, she continued. “Briala said… I shouldn’t have trusted her!”

     Lea frowned.

     “Briala told you to come to this wing of the palace?”

     “Not personally”, the servant replied, calming down somewhat. “The _ambassador_ cannot be seen talking to the servants. We get coded messages at certain locations – but the order came from her. She’s been watching the Grand Duke all night. No surprise she wanted someone to search his sister’s room.”

     “This room belongs to Grand Duchess Florianne?” Lea asked, narrowing her eyes in thought. The servant nodded.

     “It used to. This had been her private room in Halamshiral since she was a child.”

     “Could someone else have sent the orders? Anyone else who knows the code and the drop location?”

     “I… don’t know”, the servant replied. “Any of us could do it, but… no. no one else would send me here; it had to be Briala. I should have known it was a setup; the message did not say what to look for.”

     “Mind telling me why you distrust Briala?” Lea asked.

     “I knew her”, the servant answered bitterly, “before. When she was Celene’s pet. Now she wants to play revolution. But I remember. She was sleeping with the empress who purged our alienage.”

     Lea raised both of her eyebrows again. _Well, well, well_ , she thought. A glance at her companions told her they were thinking the same thing. The puzzle pieces were slowly assembling themselves into a clear picture.

     “Would you be willing to testify to that?” she asked, turning towards the servant again.

     “Absolutely”, the woman replied. “If… if the Inquisition will protect me, I’ll tell you everything I know about… her.”

     “Most Orlesians would say that’s Celene’s scandal”, Dorian thoughtfully said, “not Briala’s.”

     “It will damage Briala’s reputation as a revolutionary leader as well”, Solas replied. Lea nodded at the two of them, then turned back towards the servant.

     “Go to the ballroom. Find Commander Cullen; he’ll keep you safe. If he asks for proof as to who sent you, say you were sent by Lady Kathleen Crowley of Earth.”

     “Thank you”, the elven servant breathed and curtsied. “Maker protect you, Inquisitor.”

     She hurried out through the door. Lea pursed her lips in thought.

     “Where to now, my dear?” Vivienne asked. She straightened up.

     “Now”, she said, “we head to the garden. Let’s see if Florianne’s lead is true – or a trap for us to spring. Either way… I think it will provide us with the final piece of the puzzle.”

     Her companions fell into step behind her as they headed to the garden door – which was clearly marked by emerald vines and ruby roses. Opulence at its finest. Lea flexed her hand again. The throbbing was back.

     “Wait”, Solas said as she was about to open the door. His eyes were no more than slits.

     “There’s a rift – and demons waiting to walk through it.”

     “Well, what a lovely finale to this ball”, Dorian said.

     “A rift in the Winter Palace?” Vivienne asked. “How?”

     “Could Corypheus have somehow placed the rift here?” Lea asked, eyeing Solas. “Or had an agent placed here to do that?”

     He thought about it for a few seconds.

     “Possibly. If that is the case, then whoever’s behind this trap – for I am certain it is a trap – is the one also behind the assassinations.”

     Lea lifted her hand and studied the glowing Anchor.

     “Let’s do it.”

     She pushed the door open and stepped out. A dozen archers immediately pointed their arrows straight at her chest. Behind them was the glowing, green rift. And behind it, atop the balustrade…

     “Inquisitor”, Grand Duchess Florianne called, “what a pleasure! I wasn’t certain you’d attend.”

     Lea smiled a grim smile. _I knew it_ , she thought. _Let’s dance again, then, Florianne_.

     “You’re such a challenge to read”, Florianne continued. “I had no idea if you’d taken my bait.”

     “I fear I’m a bit busy at the moment, if you were looking for a dance partner”, Lea replied. “It’s sort of my job sealing these rifts, you know.”

     “Yes, I see that”, Florianne replied with a smile. “Such a pity you did not save one final dance for me, though it was kind of you to walk into my trap so willingly. I was so tired of your meddling.”

     Lea felt her left hand throb. She kept it behind her back, letting it build up power. The faster she could seal this rift, the better. By the looks of it, it was bigger than the ones she had sealed previously. If she let the power build up, perhaps she would still be able to beat it with a few tries.

     “Corypheus insisted that the empress die tonight”, Florianne continued, “and I would hate to disappoint him.”

     “Why kill the empress, then?” Lea asked. “What does Corypheus want to achieve?”

     _Stall for time, stall for time_.

     “Celene’s death is a stepping stone on the path to a better world”, the Grand Duchess answered. “Corypheus will enter the Black City and claim the godhood waiting for him. we will cast down your useless Maker and usher in a united world, guided by the hand of an attentive god!”

     “You’re Orlesian royalty”, Lea pointed out. “Why would you help Corypheus attack your empire?”

     Florianne laughed.

     “You think so small, Inquisitor. Why settle for an empire when Corypheus will remake the entire world? I admit; I will relish the look on Gaspard’s face when he realizes I’ve outplayed him. He always was a sore loser.”

     Movement from the other side of the closed-in garden caught Lea’s eye. There was a man, bound and gagged, seated by a fallen wagon. Gaspard’s mercenary captain. Apparently, Florianne had not lied about him being here.

     “What exactly is in this for you?” she called back up to Florianne. The Grand Duchess laughed again.

     “Why, the world, of course! I’ll deliver the entire south of Thedas, and Corypheus will save me. When he has ascended to godhood, I will rule all of Thedas in his name.”

     “Really? At this point, I don’t even know why he tries; I’d think disappointment was an old friend of his.”

     Florianne shook her head at him with another smile.

     “You poor, deluded thing”, she said. “You don’t know half of what Samson and I have planned.”

     Samson. The leader of the Red Templars. Lea would have preferred if he had died in the avalanches at Haven – but, apparently, he had managed to either avoid them or dig himself out.

     “And now, I suppose you never will”, Florianne continued. “In their darkest dreams, no one imagines I would assassinate Celene myself. All I need is to keep you out of the ballroom long enough to strike. A pity you’ll miss the rest of the ball, Inquisitor; they’ll be talking of it for years.”

     She waved her hand at the archers.

     “Kill her, and bring me her marked hand. It will make a fine gift for the master.”

     Arrows whistled through the air and Lea quickly dropped, rolled and deflected one or two with her knives, while her three mage companions struck.

     “Seal the rift!” Dorian called. “We’ll cover you!”

     Then the demons appeared.

     Solas had given her notes on demons to study, but this was the first time she had faced them in the flesh. As she fought, dodged attacks and tried to seal the rift, a part of her mind went over the facts she had memorized. _Rage demons, things of pure fire, burn those that come too close. Despair demons, perverted spirits of hope, fill people with grief_. She knew why she did this. Her mind needed to separate itself from what she was doing - let the body go through the motions of a fight without her having to think about doing it. Cassandra had taught her that technique. The Seeker most likely did not recite demon facts in her head while fighting, and Lea did not do that every time either, but it was a good way of not thinking about when to dodge, when to block, when to strike.

     Every time she found an opening, she raised her left hand and sent power at the rift. It hurt. It always did, but this time… it took longer. The pain did not have time to settle and go away before she had to use more power. When she finally managed to close the rift, she felt as if her whole arm was shredded. She dropped to one knee, grimacing. Solas helped her get back up, his brow furrowed with concern.

     “I’m sorry."

     “It’ll pass”, she promised, flexing her hand again. It hurt, but she could not let that get to her. Not now. She still had too much to do tonight.

     “Andraste’s tits!”

     She looked up and saw that Dorian had freed the mercenary captain. He was rising to his feet, massaging his previously bound wrists.

     “Were those demons?” he asked. “There aren’t any more blasted demons coming, right?”

     “No more demons”, Lea replied and walked up to him, straightening her back. “It’s safe.”

     The man shook his head.

     “Maker”, he said, “I’ve never seen one that close before. I knew Gaspard was a bastard, but I didn’t think he’d feed me to fucking horrors over a damned bill!”

     “So Duke Gaspard was the one who lured you out here?” Lea asked.

     “Well, his sister”, the man answered, “but it had to come from him, didn’t it? All that garbage she was spewing doesn’t mean anything; Gaspard had to be the mastermind.”

     “Your accent sounds Fereldan”, Vivienne noted. Lea pursed her lips.

     “I thought you were one of Gaspard’s mercenaries?”

     “Born and raised in Denerim”, the man muttered. “Seems like I should have stayed there.”

     He spat and cursed again.

     “The Duke wanted to move on the palace tonight”, he explained, “but he didn’t have enough fancy chevaliers. So he hired me and my men. He had to offer us triple our usual pay to come to Orlais. Stinking poncy cheesemongers.”

     Lea forced back a smile at the title. That sounded about right.

     “You saved my life”, the man added. “I owe you – and Gaspard still hasn’t paid me. If you want me to talk to the empress, or the court, or sing a blasted song in the Chantry, I’ll do it.”

     “Then go to the ballroom and speak with Commander Cullen”, Lea replied. “Tell him Lady Kathleen Crowley of Earth sent you.”

     The man nodded, then walked off. Lea flexed her hand again. The pain was receding. Slowly.

     “I have to get back there as well”, she said and turned towards the others. “Florianne is going to strike while she believes us to be busy out here. The longer we linger, the more time she gets.”

     “What is your plan?” Dorian asked. Lea smiled.

     “I’m going to play the Grand Game.”

     “Not dressed like that”, Vivienne said, then waved her hand. Lea blinked when her armour and weapons transformed into her red and gold dress, as the grime and sweat and dirt was cleaned from her face and her hair was once again pinned up onto her head.

     “Why have we not used that spell earlier tonight?” she asked.

     “Because laziness is not a befitting quality, my dear”, Vivienne replied with a smile. Lea shook her head at her, before the four of them hurried back through the palace, towards the ballroom. Time for the grand finale.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“If you don’t want your dirty secrets revealed, you’ll all do as I say and work together”, Lea replied. Briala gasped._   
>  _“You realize this can only end in disaster?”_   
>  _“Will it?” Lea asked. “Because I see three leaders here with different skillsets – much like my advisors within the Inquisition. Gaspard is a good military leader and strategist. Briala is a spymaster who can keep an eye on everyone and everything. And Celene is the diplomat, who will be able to appease the people even in the most trying times.”_

As they entered, they spotted Florianne and Gaspard on the opposite side of the room. It was hard to tell with the mask, but Lea was pretty sure the Grand Duchess looked shocked. She could not help but smile slightly. _Another dance begins_.

     “Thank the Maker you’re back.”

     She turned at Cullen’s voice. Relief was etched into every muscle and sinew of his face, as well as his eyes – molten pools of honey. He reached out and touched her hand, but here, inside the ballroom, they did not dare make any other moves.

     “The empress will begin her speech soon”, he continued. “What should we do?”

     Lea glanced across the room again.

     “Wait here”, she then said, meeting Cullen’s gaze. “I’m going to have a word with our culprit the Grand Duchess.”

     Cullen’s relief was immediately replaced with shock and worry.

     “What?” he said. “There’s no time! The empress will begin her speech any moment!”

     “Then I will make time”, Lea replied. “I will not have any more blood spilled here tonight.”

     “Lea…”

     She walked off before he could continue, down the stairs and across the floor towards Empress Celene’s balcony. Gaspard, Florianne and – to Lea’s surprise – Briala already stood there, seemingly having a pleasant conversation. There was a hush going through the crowd as they realized she was going to interrupt them.

     “We owe the court one more show, Your Grace”, she said, her voice ringing through the hall. Anyone who had not been listening before now certainly was. You could drop a pin at one end of the ballroom and the sound would be heard by the empress at the other end. Gaspard was the first to turn – and Lea was quite certain he looked confused. Briala did as well. Florianne turned around much slower, her back stiff. She still smiled a pleasant smile.

     “Inquisitor”, she said. Lea smiled back and arched an eyebrow.

     “The eyes of every noble in the empire are upon us, Your Grace”, she said as she walked up the stairs to the landing where the trio stood, right in front of Empress Celene. “I’d suggest you remember to keep that smile on point. After all, this is your party. You wouldn’t want them to think you’d lost control.”

     As she neared Florianne, the Grand Duchess took a step back, then another.

     “Who would not be delighted to speak with you, Inquisitor?” she asked. Her tone was far from confident by now; it was higher pitched, and held a slight tremble. _Beat you at your own game, did I?_   Lea thought. She did not dare relax, though. Florianne must have done this since she was a child.

     “I seem to recall you saying ‘all I needed was to keep you out of the ballroom long enough to strike’.”

     The crowd gasped quietly. Lea smiled again and started to walk around Florianne, like a hunter circling her prey.

     “When your archers failed to kill me in the garden”, she said, “I feared you wouldn’t save me this last dance. It’s so easy to lose your good graces, after all. You even framed your brother for the murder of a council emissary.”

     More hushed gasps and whispers. One such gasp came from Gaspard – and Florianne paled.

     “It was an ambitious plan”, Lea admitted. “Celene, Gaspard, the entire Council of Heralds, and even members of the Inquisition… all your enemies under one roof.”

     “This is very entertaining”, Florianne said, struggling to keep a smile on her face, to appear neutral, unaffected, “but you do not imagine anyone believes your wild stories?”

     “That”, Celene said from her raised position, “would be a matter for a judge to decide, cousin.”

     Florianne spun to face her brother.

     “Gaspard?” she pleaded. “You cannot believe this! You know I would never…”

     Gaspard shook his head and crossed his arms across his chest. He did not move to defend her. Then he turned and walked away, followed by Briala. At the same time, four of Celene’s guards came down from her balcony, surrounding Florianne.

     “Gaspard!” she cried. Lea shook her head at her.

     “You lost this fight ages ago, Your Grace”, she said. “You’re just the last to find out.”

     Florianne started to sob – and continued to do so while the guards dragged her away. Lea turned to face Empress Celene. There was a hint of shock on her face, but few would be able to see it, unless they stood this close. To everyone else she would seem calm and collected.

     “Your Imperial Majesty”, Lea said, “I think we should speak in private. Elsewhere.”

     Celene nodded and together they moved in the same direction Gaspard and Briala had headed in earlier. This lead them to an outdoor balcony, the doors guarded by more of Celene’s men. The moment the doors closed, Briala spoke.

     “Your sister attempted regicide in front of the entire court, Gaspard!”

     “You’re the spymaster”, Gaspard angrily replied. “If anyone knew this atrocity was coming, it was you.”

     “You don’t deny your involvement, then?” Briala demanded.

     “I do deny it!” Gaspard shouted. “I knew nothing of Florianne’s plans! But you… you knew it all and did nothing!”

     Briala snorted.

     “I don’t know which is better; that you think I’m all-seeing or that you’re trying so hard to play innocent – and failing.”

     “Enough”, Celene ordered. “We will not bicker while Tevinter plots against our nation! For the safety of the empire, I will have answers.”

     She turned towards Lea, who put her arms on her hips, the way she did when a particular student in her class needed a scolding.

     “Every one of you is implicated”, she said. “You all conspired to allow this to happen!”

     “That’s a bold claim, Inquisitor”, Celene replied. “Are you prepared to defend it?”

     _Still playing, are we?_  Lea angrily thought.

     “You allowed the Grand Duke to sneak soldiers in, hoping he’d make a politically foolish move.”

     “That’s duplicitous even for you, Celene”, Gaspard noted. Lea turned towards him next.

     “You took the bait. I met your mercenary captain, Your Grace; he says you were ready to attack tonight.”

     “Clever move”, Briala noted, “if you were trying to get hanged for treason.”

     _And strike three._

     “And Briala was playing both of you; she murdered your ambassadors and sent you each forged letters.”

     Briala looked amused.

     “Even if I did, you can’t touch me”, she said.

     “Actually”, Lea said and took a step closer, “I don’t need to. Others will deal with you, if it’s revealed that you and Celene were lovers when she burned Halamshiral’s alienage.”

     Briala flinched as if she had been slapped.

     “You’ve made your point”, Celene snapped. “What do you want?”

     “If you don’t want your dirty secrets revealed, you’ll all do as I say and work together”, Lea replied. Briala gasped.

     “You realize this can only end in disaster?”

     “Will it?” Lea asked. “Because I see three leaders here with different skillsets – much like my advisors within the Inquisition. Gaspard is a good military leader and strategist. Briala is a spymaster who can keep an eye on everyone and everything. And Celene is the diplomat, who will be able to appease the people even in the most trying times.”

     The trio in front of her looked shocked. Not even their masks could hide that.

     “We… should make a speech”, Celene eventually said. “Announce that we will, from now on, work together to ensure the peace and safety of Orlais.”

     “This is foolish”, Briala muttered, while Celene knocked on the door with a finger and the guards on the inside opened it for them again.

     “We have no choice”, she told her former lover as they headed back inside. “The nobility requires an answer for what happened.”

     “Unless you want to pretend the war was all a dream?” Gaspard suggested, cocking his head at Briala. “That would go over well.”

     Briala rolled her eyes behind her mask.

     “Then no more dithering”, Gaspard continued. “We make the cut swift and clean. Kindest to all of us.”

     As they walked within sight of the gathered nobility again, people started applauding. Both Gaspard and Celene smiled gracefully.

     “Lords and ladies of the court”, Celene said, “we are pleased to announce that an accord has been reached. Our cousin Gaspard will now hold a place of honour in our cabinet.”

     People immediately started whispering, wondering how this had come about, but fell silent when Gaspard stepped forward.

     “Friends”, he said, “we assembled are the leaders of the empire. We must set the example for all Thedas. We cannot be at war with each other while the Fade itself challenges our borders.”

     “We must stand united”, Celene said and turned towards Lea, waving her forward, “or surely we will fall alone.”

     The empress smiled and Lea looked out over the crowd, smiling as well.

     “We will save Thedas from calamity, but only together may we accomplish this.”

     Celene nodded.

     “We will heal our wounded country”, she said to the crowd. “A long road of reconstruction lies before us. But tonight, we celebrate the arrival of peace. Let the festivities commence!”

     A cheer rose from the crowd and Lea let out a relieved sigh. It was done. The danger had been averted.

     Throughout the night, she found herself being pulled from gathering to gathering, asked to dance and offered countless proposals of marriage. Dawn was breaking when she finally managed to escape out through the doors of another balcony – not guarded but secluded. She drew a deep breath of the cool morning air and leaned against the railing.

     “The Orlesian nobility make drunken toasts to your victory, and yet you are not present to hear them?”

     Lea jumped and spun around. Morrigan smiled amusedly as she walked closer.

     “Do you tire so quickly of their congratulations, Inquisitor?” she asked. “It is most fickle, after all your efforts on their behalf.”

     Lea managed a wry smile and shook her head.

     “If you’d asked me a day or a month ago if I’d be happy to see you instead of any other court member right about now, I’d have said no. Now, I’d say yes.”

     Morrigan laughed quietly.

     “Then I have happy news, as you shall be seeing a great deal more of me.”

     Lea cocked her head slightly.

     “How come?”

     “By Imperial decree, I have been named a liaison to the Inquisition”, Morrigan replied. “Celene wishes to offer you any and all aid – including mine. Congratulations.”

     Lea studied her thoughtfully.

     “Then mind if I ask you a few questions?”

     “I expected as much.”

     “You seem to know a great deal about me”, Lea said. “Do you also know… where I’m from?”

     “I’ve heard rumours that you appeared through the Breach as Lady Evelyn Trevelyan sealed it”, Morrigan replied. “I do not think you are from the Fade, but you are certainly from somewhere else.”

     Lea nodded.

     “Where I’m from”, she said, “they told stories about a woman known as the Morrigan. A myth, the phantom queen, associated with war and fate. And, sometimes, taking the shape of a crow. If you saw it on the battlefield in old times, you knew death was coming for you.”

     She turned to face Morrigan again. The yellow-eyed woman looked pleasantly surprised.

     “How much of that myth is true?”

     “I doubt you just told me the whole myth”, Morrigan replied, “but I do admit that I can change shape into a crow. And I do have knowledge which falls… beyond the realm of most mages. I suspect this is also true of Corypheus, thus it behoves you to add to your arcane arsenal, yes?”

     “I agree”, Lea replied. Morrigan chuckled.

     “I nearly thought you would ask me about blood magic. Most do.”

     “Let’s just put it like this”, Lea said and straightened up. “If you ever wield blood magic as an ally to the Inquisition, you will be considered an ally no more. Knowledge of it, however, can be an advantage.”

     Morrigan nodded, looking pleased.

     “Then I shall meet you again at Skyhold.”

     She curtsied, then left. Lea leaned against the railing again.

     “There you are.”

     She glanced up and found Cullen settling in next to her, a gentle smile on his face.

     “Everyone’s been looking for you. Are you alright?”

     Lea drew a deep breath, then nodded.

     “I’m just worn out”, she said. “Tonight has been… very long.”

     “For all of us”, Cullen agreed, then placed a hand on her arm, gently caressing it. “I’m glad it’s over. And… I know it’s foolish, but I was worried for you tonight.”

     Lea smiled slightly, then moved closer so that she could lean against his shoulder. The arm that had been on her arm immediately wound around her waist instead, supporting her, while he rested his head atop of hers with a sigh.

     “I was worried for all of us”, Lea admitted, “and I didn’t… I was afraid to make the wrong decision. Did I?”

     “No. You solved the situation in the best way possible. I’m glad you found a way that did not involve getting anyone killed – and that made us mediators, not supporters of any specific side.”

     “Even though you preferred Gaspard?” she asked and looked up at him. He grimaced slightly.

     “You saw the pattern before any of us did”, he said. “Me supporting Gaspard – both of us military leaders. Leliana supporting Briala – both of them spymasters. And Josephine preferring Celene – both of them diplomats. And we work together. They can as well.”

     He straightened slightly, glanced back into the ballroom, then smiled a lopsided smile.

     “I may never get another chance like this, so, I must ask…”

     He stepped away from her, making her frown and turn around to see what he was doing. To her surprise he bowed elegantly and held out his hand to her.

     “May I have this dance, my lady?”

     She stared at his outstretched hand, then shifted her gaze back to his face.

     “Of course”, she replied, feeling the smile appear on her lips. A true smile, not one forced there due to playing the Grand Game. She placed her free hand on his shoulder and felt him place his on her back, once again touching her skin through the mesh of her dress.

     “I thought you didn’t dance”, she noted. Cullen smiled.

     “For you I’ll try”, he murmured, then gently started to move them through the familiar pattern of a waltz. Music drifted out through the open doors, but no one else came out to cool off in the night air. It was just the two of them, slowly moving across the marble.

     “You look so beautiful”, Cullen murmured after a while, his lips brushing her forehead slightly as he spoke.

     “You don’t look too bad yourself”, she replied, looking up at him with a smile. Like Dorian and Solas, Cullen was in a more military styled uniform; red with golden details and a blue sash running diagonally across his chest, combined with beige trousers. His had further details to set him off as their army’s commander. As always, he had slicked his hair back and only left a slight stubble on his jaw. But nothing was as beautiful as the way he now looked at her; eyes warm, lips turned upwards in a smile.

     “When I saw Gaspard lead you into the ballroom, I wanted to rip him from your side”, he admitted. “Same when I saw you dancing with Florianne. I… I wanted…”

     She let go of his shoulder and raised that hand to cup his cheek.

     “I know”, she whispered, then rose up on her toes to kiss him. They had stopped moving to the music and Cullen moved both of his hands to circle her waist, pulling her against him. His hands splayed on her back and his fingers started to run along her skin once more. She shivered. He felt it – and groaned against her lips, pushing even closer.

     “Maker”, he gasped as he pulled back just enough to lean his forehead against hers, “you… I want to…”

     “Inquisitor?”

     They pulled apart, just as Josephine walked out onto the balcony. She stopped at once when she saw them and blushed.

     “Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t…”

     “It’s fine, Josephine”, Lea said, managing a smile. “What did you want to tell me?”

     Josephine hesitated and glanced at Cullen. In the corner of her eye, Lea saw him reluctantly nod.

     “We are preparing to leave”, Josephine eventually said. “Vivienne has asked for the carriages to be sent up to the gate – and the plan is that we start making our way back to Skyhold early tomorrow morning. We’ll have the day to rest up at Vivienne’s house.”

     “I see. Good. We’ll be back inside to bid farewell to the empress in a minute.”

     “I’m really, really sorry”, Josephine said again, before hurrying back again. Lea closed her eyes and drew a deep breath.

     “There’s always something”, she muttered. Cullen’s right arm circled her waist again, gently rubbing her back through the mesh. This time she knew it was to soothe her – and it worked. She leaned her head against his chest and could not help but smile briefly when he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

     “We’ll take what time we can”, he said. “For now, this was it. I would have liked more, but…”

     “I know. Me too.”

     She looked up at him with a sad smile.

     “Ride with me tomorrow?”

     “Of course.”

* * *

The journey back to Skyhold was uneventful. Every day was crisp and clear, their journey unmarred by attacks from either bandits or Corypheus’ soldiers. Cullen kept his word and rode next to her, talking amiably at times, but mostly staying silent. His presence was enough to soothe her. The desire from the night before still simmered in both of them, beneath the surface, but they both knew they had to wait. They had lost one moment; now they had to wait for another, and until then they would continue as usual. The Inquisitor and her Commander.

     Solas was quieter than usual as well. Few might have noticed; Lea did. There had been a worried frown etched onto his forehead ever since she closed the rift at the Winter Palace. And she could not shake the way he had apologized to her when helping her back up onto her feet – as if all of this was his fault.

     That could not be it, right?

     Yes, Solas was Fen’Harel – the Dread Wolf, the one named a traitor and a deceiver – but the way he had opened up to her about his past, how relieved he had been when she had not judged him based on myths alone… no, he could not be at fault. His apology must have had to do with the fact that she was in pain and he had been unable to ease it. That _had_ to be it.

     They arrived at Skyhold mid-afternoon and it was as if they had never left. The same tasks and duties awaited them and Lea found herself asking for dinner to be brought to her office while she caught up on some of the paperwork Josephine had asked her to go through. Not the first time by far. As she walked down to the kitchen with her things at near midnight – not wanting to wake a servant – she saw that the lights in the rotunda and library were still lit, as were the ones in the offices belonging to Josephine and Leliana, the light seeping out beneath closed doors. On her way back from the kitchen, she took the outdoor route to clear her head and found herself thinking about the rest of her closest companions and advisers. If Cassandra, Sera and Blackwall had been back, she was certain she would have been able to give the former Warden a wave as she passed the section of the stables he had made his home – and Cassandra would have been out patrolling. The Iron Bull was, doubtlessly, at the tavern with his men and Sera would have been sneaking about planning pranks. Cole… she did not see him as she walked, but she knew he was around, watching, waiting to see if anyone needed him. Vivienne’s apartment looked dark, but that did not mean she was asleep. Same with Varric. And Cullen…

     She stopped and looked towards the tower above the barracks. There was still one candle – possibly two – lit inside. He was doubtlessly awake as well, possibly swamped with reports from their various outposts. How was it possible that them just being away for barely two days would result in all of them getting so far behind?

     She started back towards the main parts of the castle, to her own quarters, but stopped mid-step and turned back towards the barracks. Despite them riding together, she longed for him. Not just his kisses and touch, but his company.

     “This”, she muttered to herself as she started walking in the direction of Cullen’s tower, “is a terrible idea.”

     He would certainly think she was coming on to him – and even though he definitely did not seem against the idea of them becoming intimate, there was a part of him that was very… chivalrous. That part did not want them to rush things, wanted to give them both time to decide if this was what they both wanted, and she liked that about him.

     Yet she climbed up the stairs to the battlements, walked the short distance to the tower and knocked on the door. A minute later, Cullen opened it.

     He had discarded his armour, tunic and coat, only wearing boots, trousers and a white linen shirt. The shirt was open at the neck and she found herself staring at that piece of bare skin.

     “Hello”, he said, drawing her attention back up to his face. He was smiling slightly, but did not look surprised to see her.

     “Were you waiting for me?” she asked.

     “Yes… I mean, no!”

     He blushed and scratched the back of his head with a grimace.

     “Let me start over.”

     Lea smiled.

     “Alright. Then I suppose I’m the one who should ask if I can come inside?”  
     “Right”, Cullen said, “of course, come in.”

     He stepped aside, letting her enter, and closed the door behind her.

     “I know it’s late”, Lea begun, “but I had to…”

     “I know”, Cullen said, coming up to her, his voice as soft as the hand that cupped her cheek. “I missed you.”

     “You did?”

     “I tried to go over some reports earlier and found myself only thinking back to our balcony dance”, he replied, smiling slightly, “and to our ride today. I… liked spending that much time with you. In private.”

     “Me too”, Lea sighed, leaning into his touch. They both moved closer to one another, seeking the other’s warmth and comfort, and their lips found one another easily. The kiss was soft and gentle, a series of small pecks not intended to lead to anything in particular. They were just touches, comforts.

     “I’d be perfectly happy never again setting foot in the Winter Palace”, Cullen sighed when they pulled apart. “It wasn’t the gossip or the backstabbing – I know what the Game entails – but the indifference to it all…”

     “I know that feeling”, Lea said, leaning against his chest, “but at least there was dancing.”

     Cullen chuckled, the sound reverberating through his chest.

     “Or an attempt at it, anyway”, he mused. She looked up at him with a smile.

     “I thought you did well.”

     “Then I’m very grateful for your poor taste in dance partners”, he replied with a smile of his own. He then glanced over at his desk and the smile disappeared. She followed his gaze. There was a single piece of parchment not placed in any of the orderly piles.

     “Bad news?” she asked.

     “No. Not exactly.”

     He let go of her and walked over to the desk, picking up the parchment and handing it to her.

     “It’s from my sister.”

     She raised an eyebrow at him, then straightened out the parchment and started to read aloud.

     “’Dear Mia, I am still alive. Your loving brother, Cullen.’ Honestly is it so difficult? We thought you were dead. _Again_! If the Inquisition was not on everyone’s lips, we would never have heard that their fine Commander survived Haven. We’ve been hearing strange things about the Templars lately. I am not sorry you left them. I thought your resignation was implied when you joined the Inquisition, but you meant something more, didn’t you? It’s a fool’s errand asking you to stay safe, but please try. Your loving sister, (see how easy this is?) Mia.”

     She looked up at him again, eyebrow still raised.

     “You somehow failed to send your family a letter about you surviving Haven?” she asked. Cullen grimaced.

     “I intended to”, he admitted, “but I’ve never… letters are not my strong suit and… I also forgot to send them a message when I was reassigned to Kirkwall.”

     “Do I dare ask how long they had to wait for that?” Lea asked.

     “Two years. Well, rather, my sister found out where I was after two years and sent me a message.”

     “Much like she was now the one to figure out you were here”, she filled in, walking over to his desk. “Want me to compose an answer for her?”

     “What? No!”

     Lea smiled at his shocked expression.

     “Or I can act as the scribe”, she suggested, “though I won’t do what King Alistair’s scribe did. I laughed quite a lot when I read that.”

     “What letter from King Alistair?” Cullen asked with a frown.

     “I’ll show it to you tomorrow”, Lea replied. “The point is, you need to stay in touch with your family. They must be worried about you; you’re in the middle of a war. If you can’t formulate a letter, take a few days and go see them. We have outposts near South Reach.”

     Cullen hesitated, then shook his head.

     “No. Right now, my place is here.”

     He took the letter from her hand and placed it back on the desk.

     “I’ll write them an answer tomorrow”, he promised. “For now… I believe we should call it a night. We have had few hours of sleep the last few nights and you, in particular, need to rest.”

     He looked down at their linked hands, lost in thought.

     “I could stay”, she suggested. His eyes snapped back up to hers and he opened his mouth to speak again.

     “Not… to do that”, she quickly continued. “I just… I don’t want to go.”

     His expression softened and he leaned in to touch his forehead to hers.

     “Then stay”, he whispered. The relief was palpable in him as well, as if they had just been through something horrible and could not stand the thought of being apart. Lea feared it was rather the opposite; the horrible events were yet to come and they were trying to spend as much time together as possible before, plausibly, being separated forever.

     Cullen’s bedroom lay a floor above his office and it was reached by a ladder attached to the wall. It was sparsely decorated – especially compared to Lea’s own quarters – but the things that were there were all reflections of him. Armour and polish. A weapon’s stand. A sand bag for punching and a training dummy for sword fight practice. A chest of clothes next to two sets of boots. A small, narrow bookshelf. She could not see anything of his life before he became a Templar – but the things here had not been picked out to scream _Member of the Templar Order_ either. He had left both of those pasts behind him, given his life to the Inquisition as its Commander, but to her he was swiftly becoming just Cullen Rutherford.

     They both removed their boots and Lea also removed her jacket and belt, before lying down on the bed, facing one another. She raised her hand and ran it along his jaw, the stubble scraping against her fingers. He sighed, turned his head slightly and pressed a kiss to her palm, while his arms went around her waist and pulled her closer.

     They fell asleep in the comforting warmth of each other, to the sound of their beating hearts.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Another letter?” he said. “Is it a naughty letter? A humorous proposal from some Antivan dowager?”_   
>  _Lea grimaced – and the amusement in his face disappeared._   
>  _“Not quite”, she said and handed him the envelope. “It’s from your father.”_   
>  _Dorian held the letter as if it was toxic._   
>  _“I see.”_

Cullen was already awake when she stirred. Not out of bed, but he had put some distance between them, turning his body so that his little morning issue (note; it was not that little) would not bother her. She instead found herself looking at his face. There were dark shadows beneath his eyes.

     “You didn’t sleep?” was her first question. He smiled slightly and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

     “Good morning to you, too.”

     “Cullen”, she said, her voice sharp. He lay back with a sigh.

     “It’s nothing”, he said. “Just some lingering effects.”

     Lea pushed herself up into a sitting position, scrutinizing his face.

     “This is about lyrium, isn’t it?” she asked. He did not reply – but his expression was enough to confirm her suspicions. She sighed and lay down again, her head on his chest.

     “Tell me”, she whispered. His arms went around her body and she could feel them trembling slightly.

     “Not taking it… it’s painful, at times. It’s nothing I can’t handle, and as you know Cassandra’s keeping an eye on me, but… then there are nightmares.”

     His arms tightened briefly around her.

     “Some nights I’d rather not sleep, for fear of what I might find. What I might see.”

     “Do you want to talk about it?” Lea asked.

     “No. Thank you, but… I can’t.”

     She turned her head to look at him.

     “If you ever need to”, she said, “I’m here to listen.”

     He gave her a small smile, then leaned down slightly to give her a soft kiss.

     “I’m glad you stayed”, he whispered as they pulled apart. “It may not look that way, but… I don’t think I’ve slept this good or this long in quite some time.”

     Lea smiled at him.

     “Then perhaps I should come here more often?”

     “I’d like that.”

     They stayed in bed a little while longer, simply enjoying the closeness, before simultaneously deciding that they needed to get up. Cullen had to see to the new recruits and Lea was quite certain the pile of reports and messages on her desk had not miraculously shrunk in the last few hours – unless Josephine had decided to take some of them for herself. Which would not be the first time – and which Lea did not like, as Josephine’s piles were already twice as big as her own.

     As she hurried across the courtyard still bathed in the grey light of dawn – though definitely not empty – a messenger rode in through the gates. Lea recognized him as one of the men who had ridden with Cassandra and Blackwall. He got off his horse and bowed to her as she approached.

     “Inquisitor”, he said, “I bring a message from Seeker Cassandra.”

     “Alright”, Lea said, “go ahead and tell me.”

     “Seeker Cassandra and Warden Blackwall had high hopes they and our force of fifty soldiers would arrive back at Skyhold this afternoon. They have, however, been delayed, as a messenger arrived from Val Royeaux yesterday evening, asking us to escort one of the Revered Mothers here.”

     Lea frowned.

     “One of the Revered Mothers?” she said. “Does the Chantry feel like Mother Giselle’s presence here with the Inquisition is not enough?”

     “I cannot say”, the messenger replied. Lea pursed her lips, then nodded.

     “Thank you for bringing us news. Ask one of the stable boys to take care of your horse, then head inside to get something to eat.”

     “Thank you, Inquisitor”, the man said and bowed deeply once more. The moment he turned away, Lea hurriedly walked into the castle and sought out Mother Giselle. The woman smiled gently and inclined her head.

     “My Lady Inquisitor, I’m glad you came to speak with me.”

     Lea halted with a frown.

     “Is this about the Revered Mother coming here with Cassandra and Blackwall, or something else?” she asked. Mother Giselle looked surprised.

     “I did not know that another member of the Chantry was due to arrive”, she admitted. “Thus, if you were curious to know if I knew the reason, then no. I do not know why. No, I wished to discuss one of your… companions. The Tevinter.”

     Lea stopped herself in the last moment from cursing. While Dorian and Solas had become better friends – not just accepting acquaintances – during this last month, Mother Giselle avoided Dorian at all costs. Not that he did much to encourage otherwise; the two seemed to be decidedly against one another.

     “Is that a note of distaste I detect?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

     “I admit his presence here makes me uncomfortable, but my feelings are of no concern.”

     Mother Giselle sat down on one of the chairs by the table in her room and gestured for Lea to take one of the others. She did, but her whole body was as tense as a coiled spring. Dorian was one of her closest friends here and she would be damned if someone – even Mother Giselle, speaking for the Chantry – said something bad about him without reason.

     “I have been in contact with his family”, Mother Giselle said, hand touching an envelope placed on the table. “House Pavus of Qarinus. Are you familiar with them?”

     “Other than the fact that they share their last name with Dorian, no”, Lea replied.

     “I’m only curious if you know of his… situation. The family sent a letter describing their estrangement from their son – and pleading for my aid. They’ve asked to arrange a meeting – quietly without telling him. They fear it’s the only way he’ll come.”

     She sighed slightly.

     “Since you seem to be on good terms with the young man, I’d hoped…”

     “You hoped I’d be the one to bring him there”, Lea filled in, eyes narrowing. “Do you expect me to lie to him, Mother Giselle? Isn’t that against what the Chantry stands for? And how can you be sure this isn’t some sort of trap?”

     “If it is”, Mother Giselle replied, “you are far better equipped to respond to such treachery than me. And I do not expect you to lie. You do not have to…”

     “So it’s only lying if you utter the specific words of the lie?” Lea asked, leaning back on her chair. Mother Giselle’s lips turned into a thin line.

     “It is up to you if you wish to tell the young man about this meeting or not”, she said, “but the family is worried he will not come if he knows they are the ones who asked for him.”

     “And with good reason”, Lea grumbled. “The way Dorian speaks of his family… I don’t think they treated him that well.”

     She ran a hand through her hair.

     “I cannot promise anything”, she said. “Arranging this meeting should be up to Dorian. Not me. And I will go with him if he asks.”

     Mother Giselle nodded. At least she realized when arguing more about it was futile. She then pushed the letter towards her.

     “I am sorry I cannot provide you with answers as to why the Chantry is sending someone here”, she said as they both rose, “but I can assure you; if there was trouble, they would have alerted me – and I would have told you.”

     She inclined her head and that was that. Lea thanked her for her time and walked out of the room, through the corridors of the castle until she reached the rotunda and library. Solas was not there. Surprising, but not unheard of – and this time he was not the one she wanted to speak to. Actually, she was quite glad Solas was not there; she was not sure if Dorian would have wanted anyone else to hear the news of his family’s request.

     Dorian was seated in his usual chair, but there was not a book balanced on his lap. Instead he was holding a letter – and he looked crestfallen.

     “Dorian?” she said, knocking on one of the bookshelves to notify him of her presence. He looked up and forced a smile.

     “Ah. Good morning. I did not expect you here today, seeing as there’s a rumour going about the castle about where you spent your night.”

     A teasing comment, but without the usual smirk, causing her to ignore it and instead pull one of the other chairs up to sit in front of him. His weak smile vanished as he realized she had seen through his charade and he instead gestured slightly towards the letter he had been reading.

     “It’s regarding Felix, Alexius’ son”, he said. “I know you were not there when…”

     “I know who Felix is”, Lea replied, her voice soft. She had been filled in on everything Evelyn had done as the Inquisition’s de facto leader – everyone she had met, everyone she might have made an enemy or friend out of. Alexius was a Tevinter magister who had taken command of the rebel mages – and Redcliffe Castle in Ferelden. His son, Felix, had gone behind his father’s back and organized a meeting between himself, Evelyn and Dorian, explaining what his father was actually doing. Explaining the Venatori cult. Without his information and Dorian’s assistance, the rebel mages would most likely still be controlled by the Venatori and – ultimately – Corypheus.

     She also knew that Alexius had been Dorian’s former master, the man who had taught him to wield his powers. Some time after their arrival at Skyhold, Lea had passed judgement on the magister, meeting him for the first time as she ordered he spend the rest of his life working for the Inquisition researching magic – under heavy guard.

     “He went to the Magisterium”, Dorian explained, “stood on the Senate floor and told them of you. A glowing testimonial, I’m informed.”

     “We never met and he still spoke of me, not Evelyn?”

     “So it would seem”, Dorian said with a small smile. “I suppose he trusted my judgement on your character; he knew I would not have remained with the Inquisition if its new leader was not someone I could support. But he might have also spoken about you as if you were Evelyn. There’s no news of the reaction, but everyone back home is talking. Felix always was good at words…”

     He fell silent, the crestfallen look returning to his face. Lea swallowed.

     “Was?” she carefully asked. She knew the answer before he spoke.

     “He’s dead. The Blight caught up with him.”

     Lea reached out and touched his hand.

     “Are you alright?”

     Dorian shrugged.

     “He was ill and thus on borrowed time anyhow”, he attempted. Lea raised an eyebrow at him and squeezed his hand.

     “That doesn’t mean you can’t regret his death”, she said. Dorian sighed and nodded.

     “I know.”

     He smiled sadly.

     “Felix used to sneak me treats while I was working late in his father’s study”, he said. “Don’t get into trouble on my behalf, I’d tell him. I like trouble, he’d say.”

     He dropped the smile and sighed again.

     “Tevinter could use more mages like him, those who put the good of others above themselves.”

     “Were the two of you…”

     Dorian shot her an incredulous look.

     “Felix and I?” he said, shaking his head. “What an odd question, but no; I had no intention of abusing Alexius’ hospitality by seducing his son. Not that I’ve been proper my whole life, by any means, but it wasn’t like that. Even in illness, Felix was the best of us. With him around… you knew things could be better.”

     “He should be an example for others to follow.”

     “You’re suggesting I spread the word? We could spawn the Cult of Felix within a matter of days.”

     Lea smiled – as did he.

     “I’d think there are worse things that could happen”, she said.

     “Probably true”, Dorian agreed, “and you’re right. His actions should not be forgotten.”

     He squeezed her hand and smiled, a little truer this time, the usual glimmer in his eyes back.

     “Thankfully, Felix was not the only decent sort kicking around Thedas.”

     Lea shook her head at him.

     “We’ll see”, she said. “When all this is over, we’ll see.”

     She took her hand from his and reached into her pocket.

     “I actually came here to see you about this”, she said and pulled out the envelope Mother Giselle had given her. Dorian’s eyebrows shot up.

     “Another letter?” he said. “Is it a naughty letter? A humorous proposal from some Antivan dowager?”

     Lea grimaced – and the amusement in his face disappeared.

     “Not quite”, she said and handed him the envelope. “It’s from your father.”

     Dorian held the letter as if it was toxic.

     “I see.”

     His jaw muscles tightened, his shoulders stiffened – he looked every bit like he wanted to throw the letter into the nearest fireplace and be done with it. Or burn it to ashes himself with his powers.

     “And what does Magister Halward want, pray tell?” he asked, his voice stiff.

     “A meeting.”

     Dorian’s eyes narrowed at the envelope in his hands, before he ripped it open and pulled out the folded piece of parchment. She watched him as he read, watched the tension, the fury, the anger and hurt radiating from his body. As he reached the end, he crumpled up the parchment and threw it on the floor, before he rose and started pacing.

     “’I know my son’”, he spat. “What my father knows of me would barely fill a thimble! This is so typical!”

     “May I?” Lea asked, nodding at the crumpled letter.

     “You haven’t yet read it?”

     “No. Your family reached out to Mother Giselle. She was the one who asked me to talk to you about it – bring it to your attention.”

     Dorian snorted and waved his hand.

     “Be my guest.”

     Lea picked up the parchment and unfolded it, scanning it quickly. The words of Dorian’s father were desperate, as if he truly could not see any other way to speak with his son. He spoke of sending a retainer to a tavern in Redcliffe, who would speak with Dorian if he was brought there – and that he would not likely go if he was aware of whom he was meeting.

     “I’m willing to bet this ‘family retainer’ is a henchman, hired to knock me on the head and drag me back to Tevinter”, Dorian said as she lowered the parchment, his voice still bitter.

     “You think your father would actually do that?” she asked.

     “No”, Dorian replied, “although I wouldn’t put it past him.”

     He sighed and rubbed his face with his hands.

     “I’ll go”, he said after a while. “Will you come with me?”

     “If you want me to come, then yes.”

     “I do”, Dorian replied and sat down in his chair again. “If it’s a trap, we escape and kill everyone. And if it’s not, I send the man back to my father with the message that he can stick his alarm in his wit’s end.”

     “There seems to be a lot of bad blood between you and your family”, Lea noted. To her surprise, Dorian laughed a bitter laugh.

     “Interesting turn of phrase.”

     She raised an eyebrow at him.

     “In short”, he said, “they don’t care for my choices, nor I for theirs.”

     “Because you wouldn’t get married?”

     “That too.”

     Lea studied him in silence, then rose.

     “I think you should hear out what this retainer has to say”, she said, “not just send him off. Maybe…”

     “I didn’t ask what you thought, did I?”

     Lea stared at him, feeling almost as if he had slapped her. Dorian paled, realizing what he had just said, then leaned forward and buried his face in his hands with a groan. She stayed silent, waiting until he sat up again.

     “I’m sorry”, he said, his voice heavy.

     “You’ve had a rough morning”, Lea replied.

     “That still… it doesn’t excuse me taking out my anger on you”, Dorian sighed. “Especially when you’re right.”

     He rose and walked over to her, opening his arms and offering her a hug. She accepted it, felt him inhale deeply, then exhale. Calming himself down.

     “You’re right”, he repeated as he pulled back. “There’s no harm in hearing what this man of my father’s has to say. But, if I don’t like it…”

     “Then we leave”, Lea agreed. “Do you want us to head out right away or…”

     “I see no point in leaving it be”, Dorian sighed. “The sooner we get this over with, the better.”

     “Then we’ll go right away.”

     They divided the preparations needed between them. Lea would talk with Josephine, letting her know where they were going, and collect provisions from the kitchen and storage – Redcliffe was two days ride away and they might not be able to stay at an inn overnight before they reached the city. Dorian would make sure they had horses brought out and readied. Lea knew he would need some time alone to process things and going around collecting everything else that they needed… it was better if she did that.

     She was, however, not surprised when Cullen showed up as she helped the cook pack bags of cheese, fruit and dried meat in the kitchen. The older woman immediately shoved her towards the door, insisting she could get the bags ready on her own.

     “Dorian told me”, Cullen said as the old woman went away.

     “He said why?” she asked.

     “Only that there was a possible messenger from his father waiting in Redcliffe.”

     He scratched the back of his head.

     “What if it’s a trap?” he asked. “Shouldn’t you…”

     “If it is, we’ll deal with it”, Lea replied, giving him a small smile. “I can let Arl Teagan know we’re in town, if you’re worried about us getting in trouble.”

     “That… would help.”

     He sighed.

     “I can’t help but worry about you”, he admitted. “I know I shouldn’t – that you can handle yourself – and I know…”

     “Worrying is part of caring”, Lea interrupted. She reached up and placed a hand on his cheek. He leaned into the touch, turning his head like he had the night before to brush his lips against her palm.

     “I worry about you too, Cullen”, she continued, “and I do it because I care about you. A lot. More than what might be wise in the situation we’re currently in.”

     He bent down and pressed his forehead to hers.

     “You’ll come back”, he said, his voice a mere whisper.

     “And you’ll be fine”, Lea replied. He angled his head and kissed her, his lips burning against hers with a desire that almost made her rethink her plan of riding to Redcliffe with Dorian. She could stay here, drag Cullen with her back to his quarters – or hers – and they could spend the day there. And the night. And the next day.

     An impossible wish.

     “Alright”, the cook’s sharp voice said, making them pull apart, “enough romantic dawdling.”

     She was smiling a small, crooked smile – and the servants behind her were smirking. Lea knew she was blushing as she accepted the saddle bags from the old woman’s hands, but she was even more aware of the fact that one of Cullen’s hands had stayed curled around her waist. And that it only slid to the small of her back as she walked away from the kitchen towards the courtyard, where Dorian was waiting, along with their horses and two stable boys. The stable boys were currently attaching the camp equipment she had left there before to the saddles. Dorian looked up and spotted her and Cullen approaching, a small smile on his lips. In the corner of her eye, Lea saw Cullen nod at him. In thanks, no doubt; both men knew that if Lea had had her way, she would have left without letting most people in the castle know. Including Cullen – because she was not sure how to tell him that she would be breaking her promise of coming to his quarters that night only hours after giving it.

     “Take care”, Cullen said as she swung up onto the back of her light brown mare.

     “You too”, she replied. He squeezed her hand, then pressed a kiss to it before stepping back, allowing them to ride out.

     She knew he was watching until they had disappeared behind the first turn of the road. Possibly longer.

     “Am I going to get an earful for letting him know where you were going?” Dorian asked.

     “No”, Lea replied and gave him a small smile. “Thank you.”

     Dorian smiled back, then kicked his horse into a gallop.

     They spoke little during the ride. Dorian seemed caught up in thoughts of what may or may not happen in Redcliffe – and she was caught up thinking about Cullen. She wondered what would have happened if Dorian had not told him – if they disappeared for four, possibly five days. Or more, if this turned out to be a trap that they could not so easily escape. Josephine would have known, of course, and she would doubtlessly have told him, but still… he would not have been happy. She doubted any of her friends would be happy to hear they had just… left. Gone on this mission without any real warning.

     “We could turn back”, Dorian suggested as they sat down around their small campfire that night, eating their meagre dinner. Lea stared at him.

     “Why?”

     “I wouldn’t want to separate you and the Commander if you two are finally getting serious.”

     Lea swallowed the last of her cheese.

     “You’re saying this because you’re nervous about what’s awaiting us in Redcliffe”, she said.

     “No, I’m not”, Dorian bristled. She crossed her arms over her chest and calmly looked at him, until he sighed.

     “Fine”, he muttered. “I haven’t seen or heard from my family in years. Makes me wonder what made them reach out to some southern cleric right now. If this is some Venatori connivance…”

     “Then we’ll deal with it”, Lea promised. “And maybe your family was not sure where to find you. Now you’re with the Inquisition – in the middle of a war. They might actually be quite worried about you.”

     Dorian huffed.

     “Not likely. But thank you, either way.”

     Lea smiled slightly, then turned to look into the fire again.

     “What’s going on between you and the Iron Bull, exactly?” she asked after a while. Dorian inhaled sharply.

     “If only there was a single discreet bone in that lummox”, he muttered.

     “You were the one that hinted at there being something”, Lea replied, “right before we headed to the Winter Palace. How did I miss that?”

     “You might have because there’s…”

     He sighed and rubbed his chin.

     “I don’t know what’s going on”, he admitted, “nor do the Bull, I think. Is this an official concern?”

     “I’m asking because you’re my friend, Dorian”, Lea replied, rolling her eyes at him. She could have sworn he was blushing.

     “I wouldn’t want anyone to know about this”, he said, looking away, “just like I don’t want people to know I prefer Fereldan beer to Tevinter wine.”

     “Dorian…”

     He sighed again.

     “It’s… something. A whole lot of something. At first, it was an ill-considered night after drinking. Then there was a second time and then… like I said, I don’t think either of us knows what’s going on. There’s nothing official, no words of commitment from either of us… I don’t know.”

     He chuckled and shook his head.

     “Now that I’ve said it out loud, my ancestors are definitely turning over in their graves.”

     “Do you want me to talk to him?” she asked. Dorian grimaced.

     “I’d… rather not. The Bull has some… interesting ideas about relationships. To him they’re very much in flux – and, personally, I’m not so sure I want to have anything official with him.”

     “Because you’re Tevinter and he’s Qunari?”

     “That too”, Dorian said with a small smile. “You weren’t here when him and I met the first time; I was definitely not the charmer I usually am. And yet he took it in stride. Nothing I said about the Qunari and their longstanding conflict with my homeland seemed to affect him – and that surprised me. Intrigued me.”

     Lea smiled.

     “Well, whatever happens, I want both you and the Iron Bull to find happiness. Be that together as friends or something more.”

     Dorian smiled back. He then asked her for stories about Earth, and told stories of Tevinter in return. As they were in the southern hemisphere, Tevinter was warmer than either Orlais or Ferelden. Long summers, short winters, and orchards filled with oranges, grapes and peaches. They stayed away from topics such as politics, slavery and blood magic. Lea’s stories of Earth did not. Well, she did not talk about magic – other than saying that there was none – but she did talk about politics and history, and that included slavery. Dorian always seemed fascinated with how many countries there actually were on Earth.

     “How can they not always be at war with one another?” he pondered. Lea admitted that there were conflicts between some neighbouring countries, but that it was a long time since whole continents fought one another. She proceeded to talk about the second world war – and then how that had led to the Cold War. She described the weapons of mass destruction that she and others feared would soon be used again as countries rattled their weapons at one another. Dorian paled slightly when she described the effects of one nuclear bomb dropped during the second world war – and how the countries that had participated in the Cold War had owned many more of those. Had created them as a threat to one another, but never used them. And how many of those same countries were now the ones muttering about one another, sending out threats of war in the media.

     “If a war with such weapons were to happen”, Dorian said when she fell silent, “what would happen to your world?”

     She shook her head.

     “I don’t know.”

     They did not speak anymore that night.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“This”, Dorian said, “doesn’t bode well.”_   
>  _“Dorian.”_   
>  _Lea’s knives were in her hands instantly as she spun to face the man who had appeared by the stairs to the second level of the house. Dorian, however, did not reach for his staff. This made her lower her knives, but not put them back in place. Mainly because of Dorian’s now stiff posture and the way his eyes blazed with anger. He turned to face the man._   
>  _“Father.”_

Redcliffe lay at the southern point of Lake Calenhad. It had received its name due to the red cliffs surrounding it – and which many of the houses were built upon. The castle – a massive square fortress with high, impenetrable walls – lay on an island out in the lake, only reachable by crossing one of the bridges. As they stopped on the cliffs above the village near dusk, Dorian sighed.

     “You know”, he said, “I would have liked not to set foot here again.”

     “You think your father choosing Redcliffe as a meeting place has something to do with what happened here with Alexius?” Lea asked.

     “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

     There were two inns in town – one near the eastern entrance and one in the west. The message had said that the retainer would be at the one in the east called _The Gull and Lantern_. They therefore opted to rent a room for the night at the opposite one – _The Red Maiden_. The innkeeper did not seem to recognize either of them and did not ask for names. In fact he seemed to think they were soldiers for some regiment or another, possibly the Inquisition, who had snuck off to get some time to themselves. Which meant the room he gave them only had one bed and he did mention to Dorian that if she was a screamer, he might want to alert the guests next door.

     Dorian almost looked relieved when they exited and instead made their way to _The Gull and Lantern_. As they walked inside, they were stunned to find the place deserted. There were no guests, no innkeeper, no barmaids. No one.

     “This”, Dorian said, “doesn’t bode well.”

     “Dorian.”

     Lea’s knives were in her hands instantly as she spun to face the man who had appeared by the stairs to the second level of the house. Dorian, however, did not reach for his staff. This made her lower her knives, but not put them back in place. Mainly because of Dorian’s now stiff posture and the way his eyes blazed with anger. He turned to face the man.

     “Father.”

     Lea could see it. The resemblance. Halward Pavus had darker skin than Dorian, darker eyes, a more cleanly shaven face, broader shoulders, but you could tell that they were father and son. It was in the way their faces were sculpted, in the way they held themselves – and, Lea noted, they also seemed to have the same kind of dark, fine hair. Dorian glanced back at her, his eyes searching. Wondering if she had known. He must have seen that she had not, because he nodded slightly before turning back towards his father.

     “So the whole story about the family retainer was just, what, a smoke screen?” he asked. Halward Pavus turned to look at Lea and nodded slightly. The same sort of nod as Dorian’s; a confirmative nod that meant they tilted their head slightly sideways to always keep the one they were communicating with within sight.

     “Then you were told”, he said, stepping out of the shadows of the staircase. “I apologize for the deception, Inquisitor; I never intended for you to get involved.”

     She glanced at Dorian, who met her gaze. Then she sheeted her knives. A muscle in Dorian’s jaw twitched before he turned back towards his father.

     “Of course not”, he spat. “Magister Pavus couldn’t come to Skyhold and be seen with the _dread_ Inquisitor. What would people think?”

     His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides as he continued.

     “What exactly is this, father? Ambush? Kidnapping? Warm family reunion?”

     Halward Pavus sighed deeply and shook his head.

     “This is how it’s always been”, he said, looking at Lea. She raised an eyebrow at him in response. Was he trying to make her take his side?

     “You went through all of this to get Dorian here”, she said. “I suggest you talk to him. Not to me.”

     Dorian gave a wry laugh.

     “Yes, father; talk to me”, he said. “Let me hear how mystified you are by my anger.”

     “Dorian, there’s no need to…” Halward Pavus began, but before he could finish, Dorian had spun around to face Lea instead.

     “I prefer the company of men”, he ground out. “My father disapproves.”

     Lea blinked.

     “Wait, what?”

     “Did I stutter?” Dorian spat out, anger radiating from him. “ _Men_ , and the company thereof, as in sex. Surely you’ve heard of it.”

     “That’s not exactly news, Dorian”, she replied. She knew he was not angry at her; that he was once again taking out his anger at anyone nearby. And she understood. She understood why he was so angry about being deceived, about facing his father when he had expected a retainer, and, in a way, officially coming out to her. Officially stating that women did not interest him in that way. As she had said, it was not news to her; she had known since they became friends. Perhaps even sooner.

     “And why should it be news?” Dorian asked, his voice sharp. “Why should anyone care? I have no idea.”

     She agreed. She did not say it, but she agreed. Back on Earth she had many friends who were either gay or bisexual – and she knew how much they had had to go through in their lives. How important friends who were openminded and accepting and not inclined to think that they were doing something wrong were, especially when their family did not.

     “This display is uncalled for”, Halward Pavus said sharply. Dorian gritted his teeth and turned back to him.

     “No, it _is_ called for. You called for it by luring me here!”

     “This is not what I wanted.”

     “I’m never what you wanted, father, or had you forgotten?” Dorian snapped. He looked like he wanted to break something. Hit someone.

     “This is an issue in Tevinter, then?” Lea asked. “Someone’s sexuality?”

     Dorian huffed.

     “Only if you’re trying to live up to an impossible standard. Every Tevinter family is intermarrying to distil the perfect mage, perfect body, perfect mind – the perfect leader. It means every perceived flaw – every _aberration_ – is deviant and shameful. It must be hidden.”

     He glared at his father – and for the first time that night, Halward Pavus’ face fell. Sorrow. Shame. Lea wondered if Dorian saw these feelings on his father’s face or if he, in his anger, completely missed them. She took a step forward and touched her friend’s arm, drawing his attention.

     “Your father might be here to reach out; give him a chance.”

     Dorian shook his head sharply.

     “Let’s just go.”

     “Dorian, please”, Halward Pavus said, taking a step forward, “if you’ll only listen to me…”

     “Why?” Dorian asked, turning back towards his father. “So you can spout more convenient lies?”

     Halward Pavus stopped, but Dorian ripped free from Lea’s touch and marched up to the older man, until they were a mere arm’s length away from one another. Dorian still looked furious.

     “ _He_ taught me to hate blood magic”, he spat. “’The resort of the weak mind’ – those are _his_ words!”

     He took a step away.

     “But what was the first thing you did when your precious heir refused to play pretend for the rest of his life?” he continued. “You tried to… _change_ me!”

     His voice nearly broke as he spoke and his fury twisted into what it had been from the beginning. Hurt. Deep, painful and causing a lifelong scar. Lea fought the urge to step forward and pull Dorian into a hug. If she had, she was quite certain the tears she glimpsed in his eyes would have come falling down his cheeks – and she knew that was not what he wanted right now. Right now he wanted to voice everything he needed to say, everything that had churned in the back of his mind since he left his family behind.

     “I only wanted what was best for you”, Halward Pavus tried.

     “You wanted what was best for _you_!” Dorian yelled, marching back to his father until they were almost touching noses. “For your _fucking_ legacy! Anything for that!”

     He spun and walked over to the bar, leaning heavily on it. Lea glanced at the older man, whose guilt and shame and sorrow had only become more apparent in the last few minutes, and then walked over to Dorian.

     “Don’t leave it like this, Dorian”, she said, touching his arm again. “You’ll never forgive yourself.”

     He shot her a withering glare, before pulling free and marching up to his father once more.

     “Tell me why you came”, he ground out.

     “If I knew I would drive you to the Inquisition…” Halward Pavus began. Lea barely hid her wince. _Bad phrase_ , she thought, just as Dorian’s face changed into fury once again.

     “You didn’t! I joined the Inquisition because it’s the right thing to do! Once, I had a father who would have known that.”

     He turned, this time towards the door. Lea watched Halward Pavus’ shoulders drop. A man running out of options. A man giving up.

     “Once”, he quietly said, “I had a son who trusted me. A trust I betrayed.”

     Dorian halted mid-step. Even from her angle, Lea could see him blink in surprise, frown and try to make sense of what he was hearing. He then turned back towards his father, who took a deep breath before he spoke again.

     “I only wanted to talk to him. To hear his voice again. To ask him to forgive me.”

     Dorian’s eyes were wide and he was, for once, speechless. Slowly he turned his head towards Lea, silently asking what he should do. She nodded in the direction of Halward Pavus, then walked past him to the door. She gave him one final, comforting pat on the arm before walking outside.

     While waiting for Dorian to return to _The Red Maiden_ , she had some dinner and sent a message to Arl Teagan about them being here. She should have done that before they headed to _The Gull and Lantern_ , she knew, as Cullen had wanted the Arl to be aware of the possibility of her and Dorian being ambushed or kidnapped. However, the innkeeper’s behaviour before had made both her and Dorian want to leave as soon as possible. They still had not spoken about their sleeping arrangements; the bed was quite narrow and sharing it would mean sleeping right next to one another. She did not mind, but she did worry that Dorian might.

     The man in question appeared about an hour later. He entered without a word, pulled off his boots, threw his cloak onto one of the rickety chairs, then grabbed the tankard of beer she had ordered for him in case he came back and downed its contents in one go. She remained seated on the bed, studying him as he put the tankard back down on the table, then walked over to the window. He leaned against the wall next to it, staring out over Lake Calenhad.

     “He says we’re alike”, he said after a while. His voice was quiet, still trembling somewhat due to the emotions rolling inside of him.

     “Too much pride”, he continued. “Once I would have been overjoyed to hear him say that. Now… I’m not certain. I don’t know if I can forgive him.”

     “He tried to change you?” Lea asked. Dorian did not look at her as he nodded.

     “Out of desperation. I wouldn’t put on a show, marry the girl, keep everything unsavoury private and locked away.”

     He sighed.

     “Selfish, I suppose”, he said, a hint of sarcasm in creeping into his tone, “not to want to spend my entire life screaming on the inside.”

     Lea got up from the bed and padded over to him. She took his hand and squeezed it. He squeezed back, still looking out across the dark lake.

     “He was going to do a blood ritual”, he said. “Alter my mind. Make me… acceptable. I found out – and I left.”

     “Can blood magic actually do that?” she asked. She thought of all those articles she had read of parents back on Earth, who believed they could change their children’s sexuality by sending them to various camps – and how high the suicide rate of those campers was. If those camps had been based on blood magic rituals…

     “Maybe”, Dorian replied, his voice sad. “It could also have left me a drooling vegetable – and it crushed me to think he found that absurd risk preferable to scandal. Part of me has always hoped he didn’t really want to go through with it. If he had…”

     He hesitated and she released his hand, instead wrapping her arms around him. He turned into her embrace and drew a trembling breath.

     “I can’t even imagine the person I would be now”, he whispered. “I wouldn’t like that Dorian.”

     She peered up at his face – the young, handsome man who hid so much behind a confident, unserious façade. Who had been through so much, who had been scarred by a man he trusted beyond everything else. No, not just one man. By two. His father, whom he had loved, and his teacher, whom he had admired.

     “Are you alright?” she asked, reaching up to cup his cheeks in her hands. He attempted a smile – and failed. Instead his shoulders dropped and he closed his eyes, drew another trembling breath.

     “No. Not really.”

     Then the first tear fell, soon followed by a second and third. His whole body trembled as he cried and Lea wrapped her arms around him again, leading him to the bed and seating them both. Dorian leaned against her shoulder and cried, great, heart-wrenching sobs that soon had him gasping for breath while the tears still flowed. She held him, comforting him as best she could, until the sobs slowly quieted and he stilled against her. He took another deep, trembling breath, then straightened. Wiped his eyes.

     “I apologise.”

     “Don’t”, Lea replied. “Don’t apologise. Don’t even dare to think that you just did something wrong, because you didn’t. Nothing you did was wrong. Nothing you are is wrong.”

     He met her gaze and, for the first time that night, she saw a smile on his lips. A tired smile, but a smile nonetheless.

     “We should get to sleep”, she said. “I can go downstairs, ask for a second room…”

     “No”, Dorian replied, grabbing for her hand. “Please. Stay.”

     The brief glimpse of terror in his eyes convinced her. They lay down on the narrow bed, wrapping their arms around one another, Dorian pulling her close until she was basically lying on his chest.

     “Is this what having a sister is like?” he asked after a while. Lea smiled slightly.

     “No. This is what having a best friend is like.”

     “Maker knows where I’d be without you”, he sighed.

     “Still wandering the mountains, I’d bet”, Lea shot back. He chuckled, his chest reverberating with the sound.

     “You know”, he said, “I think you’re right.”

     They woke up in the morning still wrapped in each other’s arms. Dorian did not sport any sort of hard-on, which was a relief, nor had they received any return message from Arl Teagan asking them to pay a visit to his castle. Which meant they were free to start their journey back to Skyhold. A journey they spent talking about everything except what had just happened in Redcliffe, or what dangers lay ahead. They had no encounters with bandits or army regiments, which meant they made good time and rode in beneath the portcullis mid-afternoon the day after they had left Redcliffe.

     They barely got inside as the courtyard was crowded with people. Guards quickly moved to create a path for them, but the moment they started yelling about “making a way for the Inquisitor”, things only seemed to get worse.

     It seemed like everyone there had arrived to see her.

     People pressed close, making her mare snort and rise up slightly on her rear legs. Someone grabbed her leg, only to be pushed back by a guard. Her horse reared up again and people screamed when they were nearly hit by her sharp hooves. Lea heard the blood rushing in her ears, felt how logic and ability to think slipped away as her mind focused on one thought only.

     Get. Away.

     Dorian must have noticed the look on her face – and acted based on that. He made sure he got her off her horse and that someone took their horses away. He then shielded her – with both his body and his magic – as they hurried up the nearest set of stairs. Guards blocked the way for the people crying out to her, keeping them from following as they hurried along the ramparts. She did not even realize where they were headed until Dorian slammed the door behind them shut and the smell that had already become so familiar to her hit her nose.

     Cullen’s tower.

     “Easy, easy”, Dorian murmured, lowering her down onto a chair. “You still with us?”

     “Yeah”, Lea replied, taking a deep breath. “Thank you.”

     She leaned her head back, breathing deeply for another minute or so, before she opened her eyes again. Dorian was peering out through the window facing the courtyard.

     “Why were they all here?” she asked.

     “From what I managed to hear?” Dorian said. “Well, it seems your actions at Halamshiral made people think you could solve all their problems.”

     “And I just panicked at the sight of them. Great.”

     "I didn't think this would cause you trouble", Dorian noted. "You've handled every other crowd marvelously."

     "Surprise. Old fears of being trampled and the like. I did have trouble with large crowds a couple of years back - couldn't even walk out to shop on Saturdays. It got better - but sometimes it just... comes back."

     Dorian smiled a tight smile, then looked out through the window again.

     “Looks like Cassandra’s dealing with them. I guess she has a few choice words to speak to them.”

     Lea frowned slightly, wondering why Cullen was not out there as well. He must be commanding the men, right?

     She closed her eyes briefly, took another deep breath, went through the motions of getting herself back together, then rose. Dorian gave her an incredulous look.

     “You’re going out there already? Not daring to sit back and relax?”

     “I’m the Inquisitor”, Lea replied. “Might be better if they hear things from me than Cassandra.”

     She then walked back out through the door onto the battlements. Walking down would not work - but from up here the crowd was just another mass. Just another class she had to teach.

     “The Inquisitor will not see any of you right now”, she heard Cassandra bark from the main doors.

     “Cassandra!” Lea called. An instant hush fell over the courtyard as everyone turned towards her. Lea drew a deep breath and placed her hands on her back.

     “I will help the people with their problems”, she said, “but I will not do it in such a disorderly fashion.”

     She gave the mass below her a sharp look. Some shied away from her, while others looked defiant. Just like any group of students she had ever taught.

     “There will be court times organized and announced a week from now, after which I will be able to see to the problems of the people I have pledged to serve. But I would prefer if you brought your problems up with the ones governing your homelands, your towns and villages. If they cannot solve it, you are free to come to me. And believe me; I will have those things checked.”

     Another sharp glare – and more people bowed their heads in shame.

     “Now I would advise you all to head back to your homes, before it gets too late”, Lea continued. “Staying here means working for the Inquisition – no one will be allowed to simply wait around.”

     The crowd murmured amongst themselves – and then the vast majority of them started to make for the gates. Some remained, looking uncertain. Lea counted them. Thirty-two. Mainly women, some with children. She descended the stairs once the majority of the crowd had gone, followed by Dorian. Those that still remained bowed towards her.

     “If you’re looking for places to stay here”, Lea said, her voice gentler now, “you will have to earn your keep, as do everyone else. I’d advise you all to speak with Lady Josephine.”

     They thanked her, curtsying and bowing as she walked past. A little boy reached out to touch her arm. She did not shrug him off, but he did immediately pull away, looking terrified. She stopped and knelt down in front of him, smiling slightly.

     “I’m not as dangerous as I look”, she promised. “Here.”

     She held out her hand and pulled off her glove so he could see the Anchor. His eyes widened.

     “It’s magic”, he said.

     “Yes. But it’s not dangerous. It’s helping.”

     “Does it hurt?”

     She smiled slightly.

     “Sometimes”, she replied, “but it’s not too bad.”

     The boy nodded, before hurrying after his mother towards the main doors. Cassandra approached Lea, looking tense.

     “You did well”, she said, “but now Orlais and Ferelden will question our presence here yet again.”

     “Then they’ll have to make sure their landlords can solve the problems their people have”, Lea replied. “If not, I will.”

     She looked around, once again searching for Cullen. He was nowhere in sight.

     “He… collapsed yesterday.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He groaned in pain, barely catching himself against the table as he stumbled. She leaped towards him, but before she could help him stand he held out his right hand towards her, palm out. Stand back._   
>  _“I never meant… for this to interfere.”_   
>  _“Where does it hurt?” Lea asked, taking another step forward. “Do you need to sit down? Do you…”_   
>  _“I… don’t know”, Cullen replied, briefly looking up at her. There were tears forming in his eyes, his shoulders sagged and he looked like he wanted nothing more than a swift end. Bloody hell, how had she not noticed this before?_

Lea spun around towards Cassandra and felt the colour drain from her face.

     “What?” she breathed.

     “Lack of sleep”, Cassandra explained. She glanced at Dorian.

     “Don’t mind me”, he said. “I’ll head inside and give you two ladies some privacy.”

     Lea only just kept from rolling her eyes at him. The moment he was gone, Cassandra led her off to the side of the doors.

     “Cullen told you that he’s no longer taking lyrium?” she asked.

     “Yes”, Lea replied, “and I respect his decision.”

     “As do I”, Cassandra said and shook her head. “Not that he’s willing to listen.”

     She leaned back against the wall with a sigh.

     “Cullen saw his collapse yesterday as a sign of the lyrium getting to him”, she said, “that he’s no longer fit to be our Commander. I disagreed. We argued – and still did before I was alerted to the masses out here. He demanded I recommend a replacement for him and I refused, which made him storm out. I assumed he’d be in his quarters, but since you and Dorian came from there…”

     “He wasn’t there”, Lea admitted. “Maybe he’ll be by now, but he wasn’t when we were there.”

     Cassandra nodded.

     “Cullen is fit to lead – and not doing it would destroy him”, she said and sighed. “He’s come so far…”

     “Can’t we do anything to change his mind?” Lea asked.

     “If anyone could, it’s you.”

     Cassandra straightened and looked towards Cullen’s tower. There was no sign of him having gone there while they were not looking – but Lea kept her fingers crossed. If he had not… she honestly did not know where to look.

     “Mages have made their suffering known”, Cassandra said, “but Templars never have. They are bound to the Order, mind and soul, with someone always holding their lyrium leash. Cullen has a chance to break that leash, to prove to himself – and anyone who would follow suit – that it’s possible. He _can_ do this. I knew that when we met in Kirkwall.”

     “I know”, Lea sighed. “I’ll see if I can find him.”

     Cassandra nodded, before they parted ways. Lea walked back up the steps to the battlements and walked along them until she reached Cullen’s tower. It was reachable from the other side as well – which meant it was perfectly possible for him to have snuck in.

     The first proof of this was that the door was not fully closed – and she was quite certain Dorian had closed it behind them when they exited before. She pulled it open just as someone inside let out an enraged yell and barely had time to avoid an object being thrown in her direction. The Templar toolkit.

     “Maker’s breath!” Cullen gasped, wide-eyed and pale by the desk. “I didn’t hear you enter, I…”

     He caught himself, bent his head and turned away.

     “Forgive me.”

     His voice was hoarse; the voice of a man who was about to give up. Who had somehow lost the battle he had been fighting with himself for so long now.

     “Cullen, if you need to talk…” she tried, taking a step inside. He shook his head.

     “You don’t have to…”

     He groaned in pain, barely catching himself against the table as he stumbled. She leaped towards him, but before she could help him stand he held out his right hand towards her, palm out. Stand back.

     “I never meant… for this to interfere.”

     “Where does it hurt?” Lea asked, taking another step forward. “Do you need to sit down? Do you…”

     “I… don’t know”, Cullen replied, briefly looking up at her. There were tears forming in his eyes, his shoulders sagged and he looked like he wanted nothing more than a swift end. Bloody hell, how had she not noticed this before?

     He pushed himself upright again and turned away, leaning against the wall by the window behind his desk.

     “You asked some time ago what happened to Ferelden’s Circle”, he said, referring to a conversation they had had weeks earlier. She had been curious to know how he, a Templar from Ferelden, had ended up in Kirkwall in the Free Marches. At the time, he had not replied. Now he did.

     “It was taken over by abominations”, he said, his voice harsh. “The Templars – my _friends_ – were slaughtered and I… was tortured. They tried to break my mind and I… how can you be the same person after that?”

     He slammed his fist into the wall, his voice nearly breaking.

     “Still, I wanted to serve. They sent me to Kirkwall. I trusted my Knight-Commander, and for what? Her fear of mages ended in madness! Kirkwall’s Circle fell. Innocent people died in the streets. Can’t you see why I want nothing to do with that life?”

     “Of course I can”, Lea insisted. “I…”

     “Don’t!” he barked. “Don’t… you should be questioning what I’ve done!”

     He walked back to his desk, then past it towards the bookshelf on one side of the room, then turned and walked in the other direction. Pacing the width of the circular space.

     “I thought this would be better”, he said, “that I would regain some control over my life. But these thoughts won’t… How many lives depend on our success? I swore myself to this cause… I will _not_ give less to the Inquisition than I did the Chantry. I should be taking it!”

     He slammed his fist into the nearest bookshelf, cracking the wood and displacing multiple books. She jumped in shock and watched him draw several deep breaths before he spoke again, his voice now close to a whisper.

     “I should be taking it.”

     “This doesn’t have to be about the Inquisition”, she argued, walking up so that she stood right in front of him. “Is this what _you_ want?”

     He glared at her for some time, before his face slowly relaxed, as did the fist still resting against the bookshelf.

     “No.”

     He sighed and moved to turn away again. She blocked him, taking his hands in hers. He hesitated, then turned so that he could look straight at her. There was still a lot of pain in his face.

     “These memories have always haunted me”, he said, his voice still hoarse due to the pain. “If they become worse, if... if I cannot endure this…”

     She released one of his hands and instead cupped his cheek. He felt somewhat clammy – the way someone fighting an addiction of any sort most likely could feel during the withdrawal period.

     “You can”, she promised. He sighed, then visibly relaxed and nodded slightly against her hand.

     “All right.”

     Lea gave him a slight smile.

     “Get some rest”, she told him. “I’ll be by later. As I promised before.”

     He gave her a hint of a smile back.

     “All right.”

* * *

She spent the rest of the afternoon going over details of her supposed court with Josephine and looking through some of the messages that had come in during the past few days. When dinner came around, she asked for two portions to be brought up to Cullen’s tower before heading up there herself.

     She found him out on the battlements, looking out across the valley and the mountains beyond. He heard her coming, turned towards her and smiled. She could see at once that he felt a lot better.

     “I wanted to thank you”, he begun. “When you came to see me… if there’s anything…”

     He scratched the back of his head and sighed.

     “This sounded much better in my head”, he muttered. Lea smiled slightly and came up to him.

     “I trust you’re feeling better?”

     “I… yes.”

     He smiled and allowed her to lean against him, wrapped his arm around her. She worried about pressing too close, in case he was still in pain.

     “Is it always that bad?” she asked.

     “Sometimes I feel as if I’m back there”, he admitted, sighing slightly. “I should not have pushed myself so far that day.”

     “I’m glad you’re all right”, she said.

     “I am”, he promised. She could hear the new smile in his voice.

     “I’ve never told anyone what truly happened to me at Ferelden’s Circle”, he then admitted. “I was… not myself after that. I was angry. For years, that anger blinded me. I’m not proud of the man that made me.”

     He sighed again, tightening his grip around her.

     “Now I can put some distance between myself and everything that happened. It’s a start.”

     “For what it’s worth”, Lea said, looking up at him, “I like who you are now.”

     He frowned slightly.

     “Even after…”

     “Cullen”, she said, turning so that they were face to face, “I care about you. You’ve done nothing to change that.”

     His expression turned tender and he leaned down to give her a soft kiss. She rose up on her toes, pressing closer. He sighed into the kiss, the last remnants of tension leaving his body. As they pulled apart, he raised his hand to touch her cheek.

     “What about you?” he softly asked. “How are you holding up?”

     “Well”, SLea sighed, “I did panic a bit when I got back here before. All those people…”

     “I should have been there”, he mumbled. She shook her head.

     “It wouldn’t have helped. There were too many people, too much chaos… we sorted it out.”

     “ _You_ sorted it out, if what I heard was true”, Cullen said with a smile, his arms tightening around her once more.

     “I’ve met good people here as well”, Lea continued, “and knowing they’ll have my back… it helps.”

     Cullen turned slightly, looking down into the courtyard. From where they stood they were quite protected from prying eyes, but were still able to see who moved about below. There was Sera, looking like she was planning one prank or another, and the Iron Bull, walking with some members of his company towards the gates in order to get to the tavern. Raising their eyes slightly, they could see that the lights were on in the rotunda and library, where Solas and Dorian worked, and arguing from the main doors made them notice Cassandra and Varric. Cullen’s lips twitched.

     “You certainly keep interesting company”, he murmured, then chuckled. “I suppose I do as well.”

     They turned to face the valley and mountains again, arms around one another, Lea’s head resting on Cullen’s shoulder. Soon he let his head rest on top of hers and sighed again.

     “I missed you”, he murmured into her hair.

     “I missed you, too.”

     A sound from the tower behind them made her straighten up and give him a smile.

     “Dinner’s served”, she said, then pulled him along back to his office. He followed without any protests and soon after they sat down conversation flowed freely. They tried to stay away from Inquisition related subjects – however difficult that turned out to be. Eventually, though, they drifted towards talking about the future. When she asked about his plans, Cullen drained the last remnants of his wine and leaned back in his chair, scratching the back of his head.

     “When it started, I hadn’t considered much beyond our survival”, he admitted, “but things are different now.”

     His gaze turned warm, making her body respond in kind. He rose and walked over to one of the maps on the wall.

     “I find myself wondering what will happen after”, he softly said. She rose and walked over to join him and he turned to face her, one of his hands coming up to caress her cheek.

     “When this is over”, he said, voice still soft, “I won’t want to move on… not from you.”

     She smiled slightly at him and stepped closer. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed – and then he turned away.

     “But I don’t know what you… that is, if you…”

     He walked back to the table, absentmindedly putting their empty dinner plates back on the tray the servant had used when she brought them there. Lea shook her head slightly at his uncertainty. They had never discussed past relationships, but she was starting to wonder if all of his had ended in heartbreak – and he was afraid to move along further with theirs, in case what she wanted was different than what he wanted.

     A life together.

     She could imagine it. Them together after all of this was in the past, living somewhere in Ferelden with a family of their own. Her breath caught at the thought. This man…

     “Cullen”, she said, stepping up and gently pushing herself in between him and the table, seating herself on the edge, “do you need to ask?”

     He looked down at her, eyes drifting to her lips. His hands moved to her hips, steady, reassuring, as he stepped closer, nudging her legs apart. When she did not object he let out a low groan and lowered his head, his forehead resting against hers. His breath was hot against her skin.

     “I suppose not”, he whispered. “You… I want…”

     The sound of glass shattering made Lea jump and him pull back slightly. She blushed when she realized she had accidentally pushed her empty wine glass down onto the floor.

     “I’m…”

     She fell silent when she saw the expression on Cullen’s face. His eyes had turned the colour of burnt honey again and his lips curved up in a lopsided, somewhat mischievous smirk. Her breath caught at the sight and she did not dare to move as Cullen released her, stepped around her right leg and then pushed the remainder of the objects cluttering the table onto the floor. More glass shattered, but she did not have time to reflect on that as Cullen returned to her, his lips claiming hers in a heated kiss. She moaned into it, parting her lips for him, letting his tongue into her mouth. One of her hands moved up into his hair, grabbing the blonde curls and yanking him closer. He growled, then used both of his hands to undo the buttons of her jacket. No ripping. She was not sure she could restrain herself from that when it came to his clothes. He pushed the fabric over her shoulders, then pulled off her thin linen shirt as well, leaving her almost bare from the waist up, apart from the wrappings around her chest. Cullen kissed her again, then started to trail his lips lower. As he did, he pushed her back, until she was lying on the table, him leaning down over her.

     “So beautiful”, he murmured against her collarbone. His fingers brushed against the bindings, tracing them to find the edge. She arched up slightly, taking one of his hands and guiding it in beneath her back. He smiled against her skin, then undid the fastening of her primitive bra. Slowly he unrolled the fabric – acting almost as if it was a present he was unwrapping – until there was nothing else between her chest and his mouth. And he quickly put that mouth to use, teasing her nipples one after the other. She arched up, begging for more, both hands buried in his hair. Then he suddenly pulled back, straightening. She looked up and met his gaze. Still dark – and that smirk was back again as he took a few steps away from the table. Then he started to remove his own clothes. One item after another fell to the floor – and he did not stop at leaving his torso bare. He also removed his boots, his trousers, his underwear. Her breath had become heavy just at the sight of him stripping, revealing one muscled body part after another – and she did lick her lips slightly when he bared his already standing cock.

     Jesus. Bloody. Fucking. Christ!

     “Am I to your liking, Lady Inquisitor?” he said, coming back to where she still half-lay on the table. His eyes were even darker now and his voice… it had been closer to a growl than anything else. Her whole body trembled with anticipation, her desire pooling between her legs.

     “Yes”, was all she managed to say. Cullen’s lips quirked up. He leaned down above her again and pressed a kiss to her lips, then one to her jaw.

     “My Lady”, he murmured. His hands moved to her belt, undoing it and then slowly untying the laces of her trousers. He moved his hands around her, lifting her slightly off the table in order to slide them off, along with her underwear. However, pulling the trousers completely off turned out to be a problem thanks to those godforsaken boots she had been given that first day in Skyhold.

     She had known those ties would end up being a nightmare.

     Cullen cursed, then turned to where he had dropped his clothes. After rummaging around for a bit, he found his dagger and used it to slice through the laces. Once that was done, he pulled both boots, her trousers and her underwear completely off.

     “Are you alright?” he asked, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth. She responded by wrapping her legs around his hips and her arms around his neck, pulling him close. She gasped as he rubbed against her and he chuckled low into her ear.

     “Turn”, he said. She pulled back with a slightly raised eyebrow, making him smile. He then helped her rotate her body so that instead of lying across the table, her head almost falling down the other side, she lay along it. Once done, he climbed onto the table as well. It groaned slightly beneath them, but did not appear to protest too much to them using it as a makeshift bed.

     Cullen lay down on top of her, kissing her fully on the mouth again. He was gentler now, taking his time to explore her mouth while his hands drifted down along her side, to her thigh, parting her legs even more to allow him to get close. His cock rubbed her entrance again and she broke the kiss with a whine.

     “Please”, she whispered.

     “Are you sure?” he asked, lips brushing hers again. She nodded.

     “Yes.”

     He adjusted himself, the head of his cock nudging her entrance. She let out a soft gasp at the feeling, her legs moving to embrace his hips. Then, inch by inch, he slid into her.                                                                                                            She had never had a man inside of her before. Sure, she had pleased herself with various toys, but a man’s cock… _Cullen’s_ cock… she nearly came at the mere realization that this was actually happening.

     “Alright?” he whispered, his voice trembling slightly, as if he could not quite believe this himself either.

     “Better than alright”, she replied and pulled him in for a kiss. He smiled against her lips, then rolled his hips slightly, pulling himself out, then pushing back in again. Keeping the pace slow. He kissed her again, and again, one hand winding into her hair, the other keeping his weight off of her. Her hands were in his hair, then on his back, feeling his muscles work as he kept moving. As her hips rose up to meet his thrust for thrust, he groaned and kissed her once more, harder this time, and increased the speed slightly.

     “My Lady”, he whispered against her lips, then dipped his head to kiss her right breast. “Inquisitor.”

     He switched to her left breast.

     “Herald.”

     He kissed her throat.

     “Saviour.”

     She trembled as he paused in his strokes and pulled himself up to look her in the eyes, then pushed back in, burying himself to the hilt. Her back arched like a bow ready to fire and he captured her lips in another heated kiss.

     “Lea”, he whispered against them. “Lea. Lea.”

     He murmured her name like a prayer, kissing her again and again, thrusting in and out fast and hard. She came screaming his name in turn. He came after her, followed her, caught her as she came down from the high. His breathing was ragged in her ear and he moved to push himself up, but she stopped him by wrapping her arms around him, keeping him down. She knew he was being a gentleman and did not want to let her bear the weight of his body, but she did not care. And, after their lovemaking session, he did not have it in him to protest. He rested his head next to hers, his breathing slowly returning to a more normal pace.

     “That”, he said, “was… you were…”

     “Amazing”, Lea filled in, smiling. “That was amazing.”

     He let out a soft chuckle and pushed himself up just enough to meet her gaze.

     “Amazing”, he agreed, then kissed her again.

     They stayed like that until the chill of the late winter night – or early spring night – crept back into the tower and the table became too uncomfortable for the two of them. Or Cullen decided that it probably was uncomfortable – Lea did not voice any complaints.

     “Will you stay?” he asked as they got up. She noticed the glimpse of fear in his eyes – fear that this had not been enough and she would rather leave than spend the night with him. In reply, she walked up and wrapped her arms around his waist.

     “Unless you push me out through that door, I’m not leaving until Corypheus himself comes knocking”, she whispered against his lips, before placing a swift kiss there and then stepping back. His eyes were glued to her as she gave him a small smile – and most likely remained that way after she turned and started climbing the ladder leading up to his room above, making sure she swayed her hips just a little bit more than she usually might. She was all the way up before he came after her, once again looking very much like a hunter who had sighted his prey. A giggle escaped her and she ran to the opposite side of the bed, biting her lip as he got off the ladder and stalked towards her. It did not escape her notice that he was already hard again.

     As he lunged for her, she threw herself across the bed and onto the floor on the opposite side.

     “I’m pretty sure you can do better than that, Commander”, she teased. He narrowed his eyes at her, then moved, faster than she had anticipated. She attempted to throw herself across the bed again, but he caught her legs and kept her on the mattress.

     “Got you”, he said with a grin, then started kissing his way up her legs. She kept giggling, until his lips landed on her entrance, at which point her giggles turned into moans. He kissed, licked and nosed along her folds, seemingly wanting to eat her up. She came with a cry and he responded with a moan as he licked her clean. When moved up the bed to kiss her, she could taste herself on him. She had not expected herself to like that, but she did. It was as if she had somehow marked him as his, simply by him tasting like her.

     He needed little encouragement when she moved her hips slightly, teasing his hard cock, and he plunged back into her with a satisfied hiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so here's the thing; I've got two ways that this story can go and I'm torn between them because I like both equally. Either I stick with the Inquisitor/Cullen relationship - or I add a bit of a curve ball in the form of another love interest as well, which will mean a love triangle of sorts. I've drafted ideas for both of these storylines and I seriously can't choose between them, so let me know what you guys think and would like to see!


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Most people are predictable”, he explained, “but you have shown a subtlety in your actions. A wisdom that goes against everything I have ever known of humans. Perhaps you being from another world has aided you in this, or perhaps…”_   
>  _He hesitated._   
>  _“Perhaps what?” she asked. He looked back at her._   
>  _“It’s difficult for me to admit, **lethallin** , but perhaps I was wrong about humans. In general. Not just you.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments regarding the ships, guys! I think I know how I'll continue this now - hopefully you'll all enjoy it even if it doesn't go down the route you would have liked :) Also - please don't judge said route based on this chapter alone!

This time, she woke up before him in the early light of dawn. She gently freed herself from his grip in order to sit up and take him in – his relaxed, sleeping form. No lines of worry or stress on his face. His chest rising and falling at a steady rhythm. The blond curls unbound and falling around his head, not slicked back with whatever he used to keep them away during the day. She marvelled at the way his body was shaped – the muscles of a warrior, someone who had trained for years in order to do his job. And she marvelled at that kind, chivalrous heart of his, which kept him from doing anything she might not be fully alright with, but did not keep him from being playful, rough and dominating once she had given her agreement.

     Cullen Rutherford. The man she had given herself wholeheartedly to.

     She rose from the bed, opened his chest of clothes and pulled out one of his shirts. Putting it on, she then climbed down the ladder and winced slightly at the sight of the wrecked room below. Hopefully no servant – or soldier, for that matter – would come in here before they had time to right things. They might think there had been a fight.

     She used the chamber pot in the adjoining water closet. There was one up by Cullen’s room as well, but she did not want to wake him up by peeing in the next room. He needed to sleep – preferably without nightmares. She could hear the bed squeak slightly as she started to climb back up again and popped her head up to wish him a good morning – and make him know she had not just left – but he was still asleep. The sight of a frown on his forehead made her frown as well. Quickly she walked back to the bed and sat down. He tossed his head, his breathing having gone from deep and relaxed to shallow and rapid.

     “No”, he breathed, tossing his head again, “no… leave me… leave… leave me…”

     “Cullen”, she said, grabbing one of his hands. He woke with a start, eyes wide as he took in his surroundings. As he locked eyes with her, he exhaled in relief and lay back down, closing his eyes again. He swallowed and slowly, slowly regained control of his breathing.

     “Bad dream?” she gently asked, squeezing his hand. He squeezed back.

     “They always are. Without lyrium, they’re worse.”

     He looked back at her again. Some of the lines smoothed out and he gave her a small smile, before pushing himself up on one elbow.

     “I didn’t mean to worry you”, he said, caressing her cheek with his free hand. She smiles slightly and caressed his cheek in turn.

     “You could let me worry about you a little.”

     He chuckled, the last remnants of terror disappearing from his face.

     “Alright”, he agreed. His eyes then took in all of her – her, in his shirt – and his gaze turned possessive.

     “It suits you”, he said with a lopsided smile, “my shirt.”

     She laughed, then lay down next to him on the bed, still caressing his cheek.

     “Despite all that”, she said, “is it still a good morning?”

     Cullen smiled, then moved closer, his lips brushing against hers.

     “It’s perfect”, he murmured, then let out a small sigh while resting his forehead against hers. His arms wound around her waist, pulling her flush against him. She felt him start to harden at the contact and smiled, moving her hips slightly. He groaned and tightened his grip.

     “You are…” he softly said, then groaned again as she moved her hips once more. “I have never felt anything like this.”

     He pulled back enough to look into her eyes, then rolled them over so that she was on top of him. Another small groan escaped him as she pulled herself up to a better position, dragging herself along his shaft in the process. She framed his face between her hands.

     “I love you, Cullen”, she told him. “I know that this between us hasn’t been… official for a very long time, but… I just know. I love you.”

     Cullen looked up at her with an expression that made her feel exposed. It was the look of someone who had their entire world in front of them – like everything that mattered was right there and meant to be worshipped. He took one of his hands from her waist and instead touched her cheek, brushed his thumb against her lips. She placed a soft kiss on the pad, then allowed him to pull her down for a proper one. Deep and consuming.

     “I love you, too”, he whispered as they parted. “I love you, Lea. I love you.”

     He kissed her again, his lips demanding. She opened her mouth for him and moaned. He moved his hand back down to her waist and slid his fingers in between her legs, slowly stroking her folds. She moved away from his hand as she felt herself near the end and forced herself to calm down; no matter how desperately she wanted to come, she wanted to do it with him inside of her. She pushed up onto her knees and took him in her hands. He arched his back with a curse as she slid her hands down.

     “Now”, he rasped. “Now, I’ll…”

     She understood; she could feel just how hard he was, just how close to his release just due to the physical contact, and moved herself until her entrance aligned with his already leaking cock. Slowly, she sank down, engulfing him. His hands caught her waist again, supporting her as she trembled at the feeling of him somehow sliding deeper than he had the night before.

     “Alright?” he managed to ask when she had taken all of him in. She nodded with a smile, then took his hands in hers, twining their fingers together. Leaning forward, she kissed him again, while slowly rolling her hips to make him slide in and out of her. Small motions, but they were enough to create the feeling they both desired. Cullen groaned against her lips, his hands tightening around hers, but he did not move to claim control. Instead he let her set the pace. She stretched their lovemaking for as long as she was able, then lay spent on top of him, their hearts beating together and slowly slowing down.

     “Do we have to get up?” she mumbled. He chuckled, his chest vibrating beneath her and his fingers combing through her hair.

     “I believe we do”, he said. “However, I do not like the idea. I’d prefer to stay here, with you.”

     She turned her head towards him with a small smile.

     “Until Corypheus comes knocking?” she asked. Even though he smiled, she saw the shadow pass over his face.

     “Yes.”

     She knew. Since Haven, Corypheus had not been at their throats that often. His minions and disciples certainly had, but not the creepy looking guy himself – and they did count themselves lucky that this had not happened. If it did… well, he was after the Anchor. And that was located on Lea’s hand.

     No matter what, she would have to face him. Cullen, no matter how much he wanted to act as her protector, no matter how much his _work_ actually revolved around protecting her and the Inquisition, would have no choice but to let her go into this fight.

     Reluctantly, they got out of bed and started to ready themselves for the day. Together they cleaned up the mess they had caused in Cullen’s office and laughed at the ruined ties on Lea’s boots. They still stayed on, as long as she was not running or jumping. Hopefully that would mean no one would really notice the missing ties until she got new ones.

     As everyone most likely already knew where she had been spending the night, they did not bother to try and hide it. They left the office together, walked along the battlements and down to the courtyard together, Cullen’s hand on the small of her back. They parted ways below the stairs, Cullen heading to the barracks and her back to the castle proper, saying their goodbyes with one last kiss.

     “My tower tonight?” she murmured against his lips. He smiled, then gave her a small bow before leaving. A yes, she believed, and she was smiling as well as she headed up the stairs and in through the door into Skyhold.

     After grabbing some breakfast from the kitchen, she headed in the direction of her own office. On the way there, raised voices from Josephine’s made her pause. The door to her friend’s office stood ajar and inside was a woman dressed in white and red. Not Mother Giselle; this was the Revered Mother who had accompanied Cassandra and Blackwall back to Skyhold. The rumour she had heard yesterday had been that the envoy would leave today – and she had secretly hoped she would not have to deal with whoever this woman was. By the look Cassandra had given her at the mere mention, she had not been inclined to know what the Chantry wanted.

     “We will need them to return to Val Royaux as soon as possible”, the Revered Mother insisted. “There are ceremonies! Ordinations! Maker’s mercy…”

     “That’s quite impossible at the moment”, Josephine calmly replied, seated at her desk. “However, I will see to this matter as soon as possible.”

     Lea knocked on the door while also thinking to herself _Curiosity killed the cat, you idiot!_ Josephine looked up and the Revered Mother turned. She looked younger than Mother Giselle, with a pale face and grey eyes, a long straight nose and lips pressed into a thin line. Those grey eyes sparkled with triumph at the sight of their visitor.

     “My Lady Inquisitor”, she said, bowing her head slightly, “please, may I have a word with you?”

     “What’s going on here?” Lea asked and stepped inside the office, sharing a quick glance with Josephine. The Inquisition’s ambassador sighed slightly. Lea was not sure if it was a relieved sigh or an exasperated one.

     “With the political turmoil put to rest, our minds turn to a single question”, the Revered Mother said, her voice passionate but she also seemed to simply be repeating something she had already said. Something she had practiced.

     “The next Divine”, she continued. “We cannot answer that without the Left and Right Hands of the late Divine Justinia V.”

     Lea arched an eyebrow in surprise. The Left and Right Hand of the Divine – that meant Leliana and Cassandra.

     “I have already told you, Revered Mother”, Josephine said, “Lady Leliana and Seeker Cassandra cannot be spared from their duties.”

     “But surely with the support of the Orlesian Empire, the Inquisition will not be harmed by the loss of just two souls”, the Revered Mother argued, turning towards Lea. It was obvious she had gone over these arguments with Josephine before – and now looked to the Inquisitor to decide otherwise.

     “Why do you need Leliana and Cassandra, exactly?” Lea asked crossing her arms over her chest.

     “They were Her Holiness’ most trusted advisors. They represent her legacy – her hopes for peace in Thedas. They could rally the Grand Clerics to follow as no candidate from the clergy has been able to.”

     Lea blinked at her. She did not know much of how the Chantry elected its next Divine, but she had suspected it was like electing a Pope. And, according to the rules of that election, any member of the clergy could be elected.

     She had not, however, suspected Leliana and Cassandra to be plausible candidates. Sure, she knew they were part of the Chantry, but candidates?

     “How long does the Chantry need them?” she asked, hoping she did not seem too frazzled, only slightly surprised.

     “Several months, at least”, the Revered Mother replied, “and if one of them is crowned Divine, she would not be returning to the Inquisition.”

     Lea could not help but wonder if this was also a way for the Chantry to control the Inquisition. Indirectly, they already were a Chantry organization, but the clergy had opposed to the creation. Cassandra had been the driving force, followed by Leliana, Cullen and Josephine. If either Cassandra or Leliana was removed entirely from the Inquisition, it would not just mean they lost one minor pawn. They would lose one of its key pillars.

     “Cassandra and Leliana will have to make that decision for themselves”, she said. Josephine gave her a small smile behind the Revered Mother’s back, while the Revered Mother herself, once again, flattened her lips into a thin, disappointed line.

     “And they certainly will”, Josephine said, “at a later date. Now, the Inquisitor has only just returned and has important business to attend to. You must excuse us, Revered Mother.”

     The woman in red and white considered them both for quite some time, before inclining her head to Josephine, then to Lea, before walking past the latter out of the office. Lea closed the door behind her with a relieved sigh.

     “Has she been at you about that since I left with Dorian?” she asked.

     “Every time I did not look busy enough”, Josephine replied. “I believe she thought you’d answer differently.”

     “My thoughts exactly.”

     “How was your night with Cullen?”

     Lea frowned at her – and fought to keep her blush at bay at the sight of her friend’s knowing smile.

     “This place is worse than high school”, she muttered.

     “Don’t get me wrong”, Josephine said, “I’m truly happy, for both of you. I’m simply… curious. Leliana reported that her agents among the guards had heard things breaking.”

     Lea felt her blush deepen.

     “Well, it had to do with a table”, she muttered. Josephine gasped, then started to giggle.

     “Don’t”, Lea said sharply.

     “I won’t”, Josephine replied, “though I would advise not to break any other things. People will get curious.”

     Lea rolled her eyes at her.

     “What’s the next thing we need to do?” she asked, nodding at the pile of letters – opened and unopened – next to Josephine.

     “Hawke’s been in touch”, the other woman replied. “He’s gotten in touch with his friend within the Grey Wardens – and the Warden, in turn, wants to speak with you.”

     “Alright”, Lea said with a nod, “so we head out as soon as we’re ready?”

     “Hawke’s asked to meet you and a small force near the village of Crestwood, north of Lake Calenhad”, Josephine said. “He’s set up a secret base for himself and will keep an eye out for your arrival. My recommendation would be to go there as soon as possible.”

     Lea nodded and forced a smile.

     “No rest for the wicked”, she said, then headed out of Josephine’s office. She took a peek into her own one, shook her head at the suspicious lack of reports, then headed in the opposite direction, to the rotunda and library. Solas was painting his fresco as she arrived. He had sketched out a new part of it, but as of yet she was not quite sure what it portrayed. He turned at the sound of her arrival.

     “ _Lethallin_ ”, he greeted with a small smile.

     “What’s the latest instalment?” she asked, nodding at the sketch.

     “A portrayal of what happened at Halamshiral”, he replied, then climbed down from his ladder. “I believe Dorian’s not yet back from his nightly adventures, so we may speak freely.”

     His lips curved in another smile.

     “You smell.”

     “Smell of what?” she asked. She had washed the sweat off before dressing. Solas’ smile turned even more devious and he stepped closer, his lips almost grazing her ear as he spoke.

     “Of sex with a certain Commander.”

     She jumped back, eyes wide and face ablaze.

     “You bloody… wolf… hound.”

     Solas laughed.

     “Can all elves smell that?” she asked, subtly trying to see if she could smell anything as well. “I mean, I passed quite a few on the way here.”

     “I believe they might be able to smell something, but not all there is. As for me… I am, as you said, somewhat of a wolf.”

     She shook her head at him, then watched as his smile slowly vanished, as his expression turned pensive, thoughtful. Then he held out his hand to her.

     “Come with me?”

     Into the Fade. She knew without him uttering the words – and hesitated only slightly before she accepted his hand and stepped forward. As usual, there seemed to be a time gap between what she last remembered of the rotunda and when they were suddenly walking in the Fade. It was a forest again, but something felt… different. Solas was not as tense as he had been the last time. The place felt more like the vision of Haven he had shown her the first time they had walked the Fade; like an empty world.

     “What were you like?” he suddenly asked.

     “At what time?” she asked in turn.

     “Before the Anchor.”

     They entered a clearing and Solas stopped, turning towards her. She looked at the glowing mark on her palm as he kept talking.

     “Has it affected you? Changed you in any way? Your mind, your morals, your… spirit?”

     “If it had, do you really think I’d have noticed?” Lea asked in turn, looking back up at him. He smiled.

     “No”, he admitted, “and that’s an excellent point.”

     “Why do you ask?”

     Solas hesitated.

     “You show a wisdom I have not seen since… the old days. The way you’ve taken on the Inquisition, the fate of this world… you are not what I expected.”

     “Sorry to disappoint”, she replied with a small smile. He shook his head at her, then sat down in the middle of the clearing, crossing his legs. She sat down opposite him.

     “It’s not disappointing”, he said.

     “It was a joke, Solas”, she pointed out. “I know what you meant.”

     He nodded, gaze drifting from her to the trees around them.

     “Most people are predictable”, he explained, “but you have shown a subtlety in your actions. A wisdom that goes against everything I have ever known of humans. Perhaps you being from another world has aided you in this, or perhaps…”

     He hesitated.

     “Perhaps what?” she asked. He looked back at her.

     “It’s difficult for me to admit, _lethallin_ , but perhaps I was wrong about humans. In general. Not just you.”

     She smiled and reached out to take his hand.

     “There are good and bad humans”, she said, “wise ones and proper idiots. Just like I’m sure there are elves and dwarves and Qunari with the same traits. One might think people from a certain country or region are one way, but then someone shows up and proves to be the opposite. It happens all the time.”

     Solas smiled, then raised her hand and placed a soft kiss on her knuckles. She frowned slightly at him.

     “What’s that for?” she asked.

     “A promise”, he replied. “If you and I are ever separated and you find yourself needing to talk to me, you can find me here. In this place.”

     She looked around them, at the tall trees and green grass.

     “How?” she asked.

     “All your dreams take place in the Fade”, Solas replied, “and from what I’ve seen of you, I believe you might be able to manipulate it. Stay in control.”

     He took both of her hands in his.

     “Think back to a memory of your world. One that is clear in your mind. Let it fill you – and ask the Fade to show it.”

     Lea held his gaze, wondering why he was suddenly worried about them parting ways. But if this was a way to communicate even while apart… she closed her eyes, sifted through her memories until she found one that stood out. She imagined herself in the middle of that memory, that scene, took in all the details around her, and thought _Show me. Show me this._

     Nothing happened for a long time. At least it felt like a long time, but in the Fade it was difficult to tell. But she was quite ready to give up when Solas’ hands tightened slightly around hers and he drew a sharp breath.

     She opened her eyes and found the two of them standing in the middle of London. To her right was the road, filled with cars and buses and taxis – or shades of them, at least. There was honking and, in the distance, sirens. The air smelled of heavy traffic, tarmac and, faintly, coffee due to the nearby coffee shops.

     The Marble Arch – and the entrance to Hyde Park – was to her left. The park was lush and green, there were families having picnics and couples strolling about. Lea knew, thanks to this being her memory, that if they headed into the park they would find groups of people playing football and paddling on the Serpentine. There would be smiles and laughter, the occasional ring of a bicycle bell or clop of horses from a tourist group passing by.

     Opposite worlds. Right in the middle of London.

     Solas looked stunned.

     “Where is this?” he asked.

     “London”, she replied. “The capital of my home country, England.”

     “What are those things?”

     He let go of one of her hands to gesture at the traffic, wrinkling his nose at the smell it caused.

     “Transportation”, Lea answered, then tugged him with her into the park itself. The sound of the traffic soon died down.

     “I knew your world would be different”, Solas thoughtfully said, “but seeing it… I did not picture it like this.”

     She smiled slightly.

     “Not every part of my world looks like this”, she admitted, “but it is very different. I know. Thedas reminds me of things I have only read in history books – of a time several hundred years into the past.”

     They passed by and through shadows of people in Hyde Park and Lea almost forgot that this was a memory. This felt incredibly real to her – as if she and Solas were actually there.

     Then she saw the shadow of herself beneath a tree.

     They had traced her footsteps backwards, she realized. Her memory self would soon walk in the direction of the Marble Arch. Right now, however, she was engrossed in a book.

     “How long ago was this?” Solas asked.

     “Three years”, Lea replied, smiling slightly. “I had just sent in my final assignments to university and had a two-week break before the graduation ceremony. I decided to spend that break here, in London. Mostly reading in Hyde Park.”

     “You look… at peace.”

     Her lips formed a smile once again.

     “I was. It was the first time I stayed longer than a day in London – and I fell in love with the place. Didn’t think I would, but I did.”

     “Can you bring us back to the forest?”

     A test. If Solas’ plan of managing to communicate even while separated was to work, she needed to be able to go back to the clearing he had created. She closed her eyes and focused.

     It happened sooner this time. Either because some part of her was more attuned to the Fade, or because Solas was there with her. He still smiled at her.

     “Good. You should practice getting here on your own later.”

     Then they woke up on the floor of the rotunda. Lea’s head was pounding even more than it had the previous times they had gone into the Fade.

     “Here.”

     Solas put an arm around her shoulders and helped her sit up. He put a cup to her lips and she drank from it, realizing it was tea. Slowly the headache went away.

     “You hate tea”, she remarked as he released her. “Why did you have a cup here?”

     “I guessed you might need it”, Solas replied. “Tea helps break the connection with the Fade – which is why I find myself detesting the stuff. However, you need to break it every time you’ve gone in there and controlled it, as you’re not a mage. Hence why I made sure to have tea ready in case you came by. I simply heated the water once we had exited the Fade.”

     Lea narrowed her eyes at him.

     “You’re hiding something from me”, she said. The corners of his lips twitched.

     “Am I?”

     She simply held his gaze. If it had been Dorian, she would have argued until he gave up whatever piece of information he held back. With Solas, it was the opposite. He was used to keeping things to himself; asking him to speak out only made him keep it further away. At least, in most cases. Recently – since she found out about him being Fen’Harel – he had seemingly had an easier time sharing things with her; whatever this was must be different.

     He was the first to look away and rise, holding out a hand to help her up. She accepted. His fingers rubbed her knuckles, the place where he had kissed her in the Fade.

     “Remember my promise, _lethallin_ ”, he said. Then he stepped closer and placed a kiss on her forehead.

     “ _Ma serannas, vhenan_.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Morrigan nodded in a way that substituted for a bow._   
>  _“Well then”, she said, the smile vanishing, “first of all, let me say this; some might think Corypheus a madman for seeking godhood. Yet one must ask: what were the Old Gods? What secrets of theirs did the ancient magisters know?”_   
>  _She shook her head slightly as she thought, then fixated her yellow eyes on Lea. Lea felt as if the sun had vanished behind a cloud, even though she still saw the bright sunlight illuminating the area around them._   
>  _“What I fear”, Morrigan said, “what all should fear, is not that Corypheus believes he can succeed. It is that he actually may.”_

She had no idea what that word – _vhenan_ – meant. It was not one Solas had used before, nor was it one present in the texts he had lent her to help her study elven. She distinctly felt that asking around about it was not an option – and thus she was left pondering the word on her own. To distract herself, she tried to attend to other matters around the castle. First, she sought out both Cassandra and Leliana to discuss what the Chantry emissary had revealed – about the two of them being plausible candidates in the race of becoming the next Divine. Neither seemed onboard with the idea; both felt that they were much more needed here, with the Inquisition, and that the Chantry banding their names about right now only had to do with Lea gaining favour within the Orlesian court after the events at Halamshiral – and thus everyone associated with her rose in popularity as well. Lea still offered both of them her support. No, she would not be happy to see either of them leave, but if they were officially asked, she would not stop them. The Chantry and carrying on the work of Divine Justinia… that meant a lot to both Cassandra and Leliana.

     On her way back from speaking with Cassandra out by the training grounds, she ventured into the garden. That was where she spotted Morrigan – now dressed very differently from her dress at Halamshiral. Lea wondered how barely covering one’s torso could be comfortable in this weather, but Morrigan did not seem troubled at all.

     “’tis a large fortress, Inquisitor”, the raven-haired woman said as she came to greet her. “To think; until recently this place stood decrepit, occupied only by the desperate and the lost. Now it is party to events that threaten to shake the world. I wonder if it is pleased?”

     “You know something about Skyhold’s history?” Lea asked, raising her eyebrows. She had attempted to get Solas to talk to her about it, but he had avoided the question. Much like he avoided most questions that got too personal, which made her think Skyhold was not simply a place he had stumbled upon. It meant more to him than that.

     “This fortress was built upon the remains of a site holy to the ancient elves”, Morrigan replied. “They called it Tarasyl’an – the place where the sky is kept. It is said that, from here, they reached up to the heavens to bring them down to rest.”

     She chuckled to herself and shook her head.

     “Either way, they abandoned it – as did the humans who came after them. Bones laid upon bones, silent until your arrival.”

     “So it has no owner?”

     “Not that I’ve heard of, no”, Morrigan replied. “Only people who lived in the area knew of its existence, before the Inquisition claimed it. Of course, people in both Orlais and Ferelden are undoubtedly trying to find a claim to the place – and, thus, also the Inquisition – but so far it does not seem like anyone has found such an object. For now, I believe this place is wholly yours.”

     “Good”, Lea said, “because I like this place. I’d hate to leave.”

     Morrigan nodded, looking pleased.

     “The magic in this place has seeped into the stones, protecting it from darkness”, she explained as she started to walk along one of the paths, forcing Lea to follow if she wanted to keep being a part of the conversation. “Those who let it fall to ruin did not know what they possessed. You, I think, shall do it justice.”

     She stopped and turned towards Lea with a smile.

     “You were kind to welcome my aid, Inquisitor, even knowing as little of me as you do – or, rather, only having heard of someone with my name and… similar abilities. I will do my best to aid your cause with all the knowledge at my disposal. This I swear to you.”

     “I appreciate whatever help you can give us”, Lea replied. Morrigan nodded in a way that substituted for a bow.

     “Well then”, she said, the smile vanishing, “first of all, let me say this; some might think Corypheus a madman for seeking godhood. Yet one must ask: what _were_ the Old Gods? What secrets of theirs did the ancient magisters know?”

     She shook her head slightly as she thought, then fixated her yellow eyes on Lea. Lea felt as if the sun had vanished behind a cloud, even though she still saw the bright sunlight illuminating the area around them.

     “What I fear”, Morrigan said, “what _all_ should fear, is not that Corypheus believes he can succeed. It is that he actually may.”

     With those words, the woman turned and left, walking in the direction of one of the towers surrounding the garden. Not until she was gone did Lea manage to shake herself awake and walk in the opposite direction, back into the main hall. As mid-afternoon was coming about, it was not as busy as it would be during either lunch or dinner, which suited her just fine. It made it easy for her to slip through it and, from there, on to her own quarters. There she pulled out the one thing she kept hidden from all of her friends and allies; a notebook. She did not call it a diary – she did not write down things that happened in her day to day life, but rather pieces of information. Thoughts. Ideas. She opened the book to an empty page, dipped a quill in ink and wrote a chain of consequences stemming from one event; her coming to Thedas through the Fade.

     If she could do that, then what was stopping Corypheus from doing it the reverse way if he actually reached his goal – if he ended up actually being able to walk through the Fade and use it as he wished? Earth would turn their nuclear weapons on him – or at least many countries would – and those weapons would affect the entire world.

     Corypheus might very well end up destroying not just one world, but two.

     She did not have dinner that night. Instead she headed down to the war room, studying the map of Thedas spread out on the large table, along with the markers of where their troops were. She read through the notes written by her friends and allies, then wrote some of her own, crossed them out and rewrote them. Reconsidered. Patterns emerged, then disappeared. It was frustrating. So much of what was going on was still a mystery to them. Corypheus had the upper hand and they were simply following where he went. Sure, so far they had disrupted his plans, but Corypheus was the one making a path. Or several. It had been urgent for them to deal with the attempted assassination – and it was urgent for them to seek out Hawke’s Warden friend and figure out where the Grey Wardens had disappeared to – and at the same time, Leliana’s spies reported sightings of smaller Venatori groups near old elven ruins in both Orlais and Ferelden. Something that might not seem to be as urgent as their other tasks, but whenever Lea so much as glanced at one of Leliana’s markers on the map, she shivered. As much as they needed to find the Grey Wardens, they also needed to figure out what their enemy was searching for among those ruins – and get to it before he did.

     “You look troubled.”

     Her head snapped up. Cullen was standing by the door, studying her with a small frown.

     “When did you get here?” she asked with a frown of her own. The door to the war room was notoriously squeaky – no matter how much they attempted to fix the hinges – yet she had not heard it open and close.

     “Some twenty minutes ago”, Cullen replied. “You’ve been staring at the map since then, lost in thought.”

     He walked around the table and placed an arm around her shoulders, gently pulling her against him. She leaned against his chest and he placed a soft kiss on the top of her head.

     “What are you thinking about?” he asked.

     “Corypheus”, she sighed. “He’s still a step ahead of us. Maybe two.”

     “We’ll stop him.”

     She nodded slightly.

     “What’s your plan?” he then asked. She looked up at him with a frown.

     “My plan?”

     Cullen smiled briefly.

     “I do recognize when someone’s planning for war, Lea. It’s what I do.”

     He brushed the fingers of his free hand over some of the notes she had made. She had not realized how big that pile had gotten – or the pile of discarded, crumpled parchments on the floor. How long had she been here, exactly?

     “We need to send people to Crestwood”, she eventually replied, “as well as devote more time and people to researching what Corypheus is up to by the ruins. And if he has turned the Grey Wardens against us, we need to make sure we have everything we need ready. Weapons, armour, food, tents, horses, tonics…”

     She fell silent, then shook her head.

     “You’ve doubtlessly already thought of this”, she sighed.

     “Not all of it”, Cullen answered. His fingers went from her notes to the map.

     “Leliana sent Scout Harding to Crestwood three days ago, alongside a small force. They should be there tomorrow morning at the latest. Their main task is to clear out the undead terrorising the village and set up a permanent base for us. I have prepared another group of soldiers and can send them there as well in the morning, if you want me to.”

     “How many did Scout Harding bring?” Lea asked.

     “Seventy men and women.”

     “Send your force after them.”

     Cullen nodded. His fingers drifted to one of Leliana’s markers.

     “Sending a force to the ruins will be troublesome”, he said. “Leliana’s spies are our best bet in finding out what Corypheus is looking for.”

     “Out in the field, yes”, Lea agreed, “but if they get there after Corypheus’ men, we won’t learn anything beyond them being there. We need to get there before they do and we need to know what they’re trying to find.”

     She picked up one of the markers not yet placed on the map, weighing it in her hand.

     “I’ll ask Solas, Dorian and Morrigan to figure out what he’s searching for”, she said after a while. “Solas and Morrigan might also know of more ruins – ones we have not yet tracked Corypheus to – so that we can get there first. If we figure out what he’s looking for, find it and bring it to Skyhold before he can even get there, we’ll have beaten him.”

     “It’s risky”, Cullen replied. “The Nightingale’s spies travel in small groups. If they’re caught out in the open by a bigger group of Red Templars, they will be slaughtered.”

     Lea tightened her grip on the marker in her hand. She had told Leliana that their people were not tools to be discarded, that saving lives made them better than Corypheus who sacrificed them without a second thought, yet here she was, possibly planning a massacre of her friend’s men.

     She hated this.

     “I’ll talk to Leliana about it”, she said and put the marker back down. Cullen nodded approvingly.

     “Do you wish to do it now?” he asked. “I am certain Leliana’s still in the rookery. That woman sleeps less than I do.”

     Lea smiled slightly at the comment, then shook her head.

     “It can wait until morning.”

* * *

She dreamed she was back in the old forest, back in a time long ago. Solas was running ahead of her, but it was the Solas of her time, not the one she had seen in his memory. She tried calling for him, but her mouth refused to make sounds and thus she was forced to simply follow. Run after him. Chase him down like he was her prey. He never turned around, never looked to see who his hunter was. If he had, perhaps he would have stopped. Instead they reached the river and just like he had in his wolf form, he jumped across it. There was a loud _crack_ as he landed, followed by a pained scream – and then silence.

     She suddenly found herself on the other side of the river, running up to where Solas was lying. His eyes stared up at the sky above them, unseeing. Dead. Unlike the wolf, he had not broken his front paw – or arm. He had broken his neck.

     Her eyes snapped open. It took her a moment to remember where she was – in her quarters, with Cullen spooning her from behind, his breath warm on her neck and his arm wrapped protectively around her waist. Her sudden awakening had not woken him and she let out a small sigh of relief. He needed to sleep.

     Slowly, Lea crept out of his embrace and pulled on her clothes, then snuck out of the room. Skyhold was still dark and quiet – there was no sign of any servants, meaning dawn was still not near. Walking to the rotunda was thus an easy task, as no one stopped to question her about it.

     The rotunda, however, was dark. The candles Solas always lit whenever he was working there had been extinguished, leaving the place looking gloomy. The same could not be said about the library above. It was bathed in light – and there were grunts and whines echoing down to where she stood. She winced when she realized what those grunts and whines most likely meant, then quickly backed out of the rotunda, wiping her face. Five minutes. She would give them five minutes.

     Without a clock, it was difficult to say if it actually had been five minutes when she squared her shoulders and marched back into the rotunda. At least now there were no grunts from above.

     “Are you two decent?” she called up. She received a muffled yelp as a reply, followed by a rumbling laugh.

     “You want to join us, boss?” the Iron Bull called down. “There’s room for one more.”

     His footsteps thudded against the floor as he walked over to the balustrade, grinning at her. She rolled her eyes at him. At least he had put his pants on.

     “Dorian?” she then called. “Can I come up?”

     “Give me a minute”, Dorian replied. His voice sounded hoarse.

     “So, boss”, the Bull said, drawing her attention again, “Krem was asking when you’d come by the tavern again.”

     “Krem knows he’s welcome to come say hi to me whenever he has the time”, Lea replied, “and I’m not a tavern goer. Which he also knows. Nice attempt, though.”

     The Iron Bull chuckled.

     “Good. You’ve been practicing looking for the truth since we last spoke.”

     “Leliana insisted I do it as preparation for the Game”, Lea replied. She felt a bit bad not having thought of bringing the Bull along to Halamshiral – instead of Vivienne, no matter how valuable her knowledge of the court was. Being a member of the Ben-Hassrath – the Qunari spies – he had been trained since he was little to see clues in how people acted. Him and Leliana could sometimes be seen discussing one particular report or another – and then dismiss the other and ignore them for weeks. They respected one another, but as spies they also did not fully trust each other.

     Also, she would have liked to see more of Dorian and the Iron Bull together, outside of Skyhold. Judging by her conversation with Dorian on the way to Redcliffe and this secret, midnight tryst, they were still not quite sure how to present their relationship to the world.

     “I’m decent”, Dorian called, prompting her to take the stairs up to the second floor. The Bull sat down on one of the chairs by the table she usually occupied while studying, while Dorian sat in his own, highbacked one by the window. Her mage friend looked flushed – most likely both due to what him and his lover had just done, and the fact that she had walked in on them.

     “You’re up late”, Dorian still said, managing a smile.

     “As are you two.”

     “Ah, so Cullen is the one keeping you awake?” the Bull asked. “I’m surprised you ran down here, then.”

     Lea closed her eyes, counted to five, then let out a long breath.

     “Alright, fine, I’ll leave.”

     “Relax, boss. I know that was not why you came down here.”

     “You do?” Dorian asked with a frown.

     “Ben-Hassrath, remember?” the Iron Bull replied with a slight smile. “Either way, I think you should sit down, boss. You might not act like it, but you look like you’re about to faint – and not because you found the two of us here.”

     Lea slowly obeyed – and the moment she did her initial thoughts upon waking up returned. She remembered the dream as clearly as if it had been real.

     “Bad dreams”, she eventually admitted. Dorian raised his eyebrows slightly.

     “Do you want to talk about them?” he asked.

     “They’re just dreams”, she replied. The looks both of the men gave her clearly showed they did not believe that statement for one bit. She sighed and ran the fingers of her right hand through her hair.

     “I was in a forest, chasing Solas – and he died”, she explained.

     “And you came here for solitude and instead found us fucking”, the Iron Bull said, leaning back on his chair. “Not ideal.”

     “ _Kaffas_ , Bull”, Dorian swore, “that’s not helping.”

     He rose – albeit unsteadily – and came over to her chair, kneeling down in front of it and gently wrapping his arms around her.

     “It was just a dream”, he promised. “Just a trick of the Fade. Our elven friend looked as healthy as ever last I saw him this morning.”

     Lea pushed back, putting him at arm’s length.

     “You haven’t seen Solas since this morning?” she asked with a frown.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Cullen let out a slight sigh, then walked up to her and pulled her into a hug._   
>  _“You’re going after him”, he said. It was not a question; he already knew._   
>  _“I have to.”_   
>  _“He’s not dead. Or dying.”_   
>  _“I know.”_

“I passed him in the corridor on my way here, after…” Dorian replied, then fell silent with a frown of his own. A moment later he cursed.

     “ _Kaffas_!”

     “He rode out of Skyhold by lunchtime”, the Iron Bull said. “I assumed he had told you this. You two are quite close.”

     “Oh, bloody fucking hell”, Lea said and rose. “That bastard!”

     She hurried down the stairs, hardly noticing the sound of both Dorian and the Iron Bull following her.

     “He hinted at himself leaving”, she growled under her breath. “Bloody hell, I’m an idiot!”

     “Easy, boss”, the Iron Bull said, placing a hand on her shoulder to make her stop. A very effective way of doing it, considering his size and strength.

     “Now’s not the time to panic”, he said. “Solas can handle himself and I doubt he would stay gone for long – but if you want to go after him, you need to give yourself time to think. Plan.”

     Lea gritted her teeth, then nodded. _He’s alright. He has to be alright._

     “Good”, the Bull said. “Now, listen to me. You’re a good tracker. You can find him, whether he wants you to or not. Your horse is faster and more nimble than his stallion – and if you pack lightly, you’ll be able to catch up with him.”

     Lea drew a deep breath, then nodded.

     “If you want to chase after him straight away, I’ll get your horse ready”, Dorian added. “You get your things.”

     She nodded and the Bull let go of her shoulder. The moment he had, she turned and hurried back through the corridors and up the stairs to her quarters. She was not surprised to see Cullen awake. Either the nightmares had woken him again, or he had realized she was gone. If it was the former, he must have been awake for quite some time, because he did not look as terrified as he had when he had woken up the previous morning. He frowned when he saw that she was already dressed.

     “What’s going on?” he asked and rose from the bed, searching for his own clothes. “Are we under attack?”

     “No”, Lea quickly replied. “No, it’s… I’m sorry.”

     He paused, then finished tying his breeches.

     “Solas is gone”, she told him, “and… I dreamt that he was dying.”

     Cullen let out a slight sigh, then walked up to her and pulled her into a hug.

     “You’re going after him”, he said. It was not a question; he already knew.

     “I have to.”

     “He’s not dead. Or dying.”

     “I know.”

     Cullen’s arms tightened briefly around her. She wondered if he was thinking back to what had happened while she had gone with Dorian to Redcliffe and worried that it might happen again.

     “Talk to Leliana”, she told him. “Tell her what I told you – if she doesn’t already know.”

     “We’ll carry on”, Cullen replied. “You do not need to worry about that.”

     He pulled back slightly and tilted her face up to his by placing two fingers beneath her chin. When he leaned down, she met him halfway, melting into the kiss.

     “I love you”, he whispered against her lips.

     “I love you, too”, she replied.

     He did not accompany her down to the stables like he had when she left with Dorian – mainly because she insisted he go back to bed and get some rest. Dorian had prepared her horse as promised and the Bull had packed a single saddle bag for her with food, a water skin, a bedroll and a blanket. Enough for a short journey – which was why she had also brought along the bow and quiver of arrows she had inherited from Evelyn. Archery was not something she used much while fighting, but she still practiced and it was easier to hunt with than knives.

     “One more thing”, Dorian said as she got up into the saddle. He pulled out a necklace with a crystal from his pocket.

     “What’s this?” she asked as she accepted it.

     “A messenger crystal”, Dorian replied with a smile. “Easier than sending ravens. I have its partner, so if you clutch it in your hand and think your message to me, I’ll hear it. And you’ll hear my response, if I do the same.”

     He patted her knee.

     “I don’t expect you to give detailed reports of everything you see, but when you find our missing friend, I think we’d all appreciate knowing it.”

     She smiled down at him, then put the necklace over her head.

     “Thanks, Dorian.”

     She looked up and nodded at the Iron Bull, who signalled some of his Chargers – whom he had most likely rudely woken up for this task – to open the gates. The moment she pressed her knees into the sides of her horse, the mare shot out beneath the portcullis, leaving Skyhold behind.

     Solas had not even attempted to cover his tracks – or at least she hoped she was interpreting the tracks she found right as she let her horse follow one of the old mountain roads leading west. The still hard ground made the hoofprints she found appear infrequently, but always moving in the same direction – and always alone. A single rider heading towards Orlais. At one point she had to backtrack and find another path leading more south, indicating that he was not riding towards any of the cities bordering the Imperial Highway – such as Halamshiral and Montsimmard. When the tracks turned west again, she knew which part of the Empire he was aiming for.

     He was heading towards the Dales.

     She had visited this vast, wild area of Orlais before, in order to seal a few rifts and help disrupt Venatori activities, but that did not help with trying to figure out what Solas was up to. Especially since the Dales was – as stated – a vast area. Closest to Skyhold were the highlands known as the Emprise du Lion – a cold, mountainous area that she and her travel partners of choice had skirted around previously. In the south lay a forest that always seemed much more humid than what was natural that far south – the Emerald Graves. Also a place she had not visited often, but she had been there to seal a pair of rifts. She had also wondered, quietly to herself, why all the elven ruins there held statues of wolves, if wolves were associated with Fen’Harel. The ruins were not as ancient as the ones Corypheus was now investigating; they were from the time when the elves ruled the Dales after being freed from Tevinter slavery. Before the founding of the Orlesian Empire. She had never had time to ask Solas about this.

     Then there were the plains – the Exalted Plains – though not much of them could be considered exalted nowadays. It was the biggest region of the Dales and the one she had visited most often, as the dead rose up from their graves possessed by demons and actual demons roamed the land, and a group of deserters from Celene and Gaspard’s respective armies tried to wreak havoc. The first time she had seen the Exalted Plains, she had compared them to photographs of the trenches in the first world war. After travelling through them, her opinion had not changed.

     Solas’ tracks led towards the Emprise du Lion. It was possible that his goal lay there, just as it might lie beyond the cold mountains, in the plains. Lea actually found herself hoping it was the plains he was aiming for; despite her hating them for being a place destroyed by constant war and them being further away, she did not have gear for a journey through the Emprise. If the mountains were his goal, she needed to catch him before he got there. Once again she urged her horse into a gallop and they surged forward along the old path, while the sun slowly, slowly begun to rise behind her.

     By the time the area around her started to tilt upwards towards the Emprise du Lion, the white peaks glowing in the sunlight, she slowed down. They had been riding hard for hours now and needed to rest, but she was reluctant to take a break and sleep – no matter how weary she felt. The dream still haunted her, especially now that she was actually chasing down her friend. What if it had been an omen? What if she was playing straight into the hands of faith by going on this hunt?

     She let her horse graze and drink by one of the streams and took some of the dried meat and cheese from her pack, eating while still in the saddle. It was easier to spot tracks now that the sun was up – and here by the stream they were very apparent. Hoofprints of one horse crossing were stamped into the muddy bank mere feet away. The fact that they had not been washed away yet made her hope Solas had slowed his pace and that she was catching up. She took a swig of water from her water skin before urging her mare to cross as well.

     On the other side, she pulled to a halt and frowned. Despite the muddiness of the bank, there were no tracks of a horse exiting the water straight across from where it had entered.

     “Damn it, Solas”, she muttered, then jumped off to better inspect the ground. This was his first clear attempt at shaking off any followers; either he had disguised the tracks of him exiting the water, or he had gone further down or up the stream before doing it. The stream looked calm and shallow for as far as she could see in either direction. He could have exited anywhere, headed in any direction, even back west but via a different route.

     “Bloody bastard”, she cursed, then got back up into the saddle. If she chose the wrong way to go now, there was no way she would catch up with him today. Maybe not even this week. If he had given her a hint of where he was going, she might have had a chance, but he had said nothing.

     She clutched the reins and let her horse walk slowly forward while trying to think logically – a difficult task considering she was tired and pissed off. From where she was now, she could spot four possible routes. Directly ahead of her was a path that lead further up into the Emprise du Lion. If she headed north, there seemed to be a path going around the cold mountains – or at least only passing through the outskirts of them. South of her was another indication of a path, which by the looks of it aimed southwest of the mountains – either to the Exalted Plains or to the Emerald Graves. And then there were the multiple mountain paths behind her – back east – leading into the Frostback Mountains or to Ferelden beyond.

     If Solas was aiming for something in the Emprise du Lion, the path straight ahead was her best bet, but she saw no indication of it having been travelled recently. Her other previous guess had been the Exalted Plains, which meant either the southern or the northern path. In both cases, reaching the edge of the plains would most likely take at least a day from where she now was. If he was in a hurry, he would have picked the path leading through the Emprise, but she saw no tracks along it. Unless he had hidden them through magic, which was an option, considering she could not see the tracks of a horse exiting the water here either.

     Heading back was, of course, also an option. If Solas was worried about being followed, he could have led her on a wild goose chase, even placing tracks through magic to this point while heading east, towards Ferelden or, possibly, another place within the Frostback Mountains. If that was the case, she was most likely already too far behind to catch up with him.

     “Where did you go, Solas?” she muttered. “Where did you go?”

     Too uncertain to make a decision, she let her horse move as it willed. She knew Solas’ horse was a stallion; perhaps her mare would catch its scent and want to find it. A very, _very_ farfetched hope, but at the moment she certainly had no better plan. Besides, her horse seemed much more inclined to eat than to find Solas. After what must have been at least an hour, she took the reins again with a groan and chose the northern path. She reasoned that if she found no tracks for the next hour or so, she would turn and take another path. Solas could not have hidden all his tracks. Right?

     The northern path went through the outskirts of the Emprise du Lion area, meaning the path still lead upwards and the temperature dropped. Snow and ice appeared while they were still climbing, forcing her to slow her horse to a trot, then to a walk. She pulled her cloak tighter about herself and focused on wiggling her toes and fingers. The Frostbacks were still cold in spring, but this… this felt worse. How was that possible? Was there a lingering curse on the Emprise du Lion to keep the temperature at zero degrees Celsius or below? There was also the matter of tracking. Snow on the ground should have meant tracks, but she saw none. No hoofprints, no broken twigs or disturbed, recently trampled plants. It was still possible that Solas might be hiding his tracks, but…

     Her horse snorted and stopped. Lea was instantly alert, looking around for possible attackers.

     “What is it, girl?” she asked. The mare’s head was raised, her ears pointed forward, her nostrils wide as she breathed in some scent or another. She felt tense, but not in the way Lea had come to recognize as terrified. During one mission in Ferelden they had come across a bear and the mare had bolted in the opposite direction, but the tension in her body had felt different at that point.

     “Lead the way”, Lea murmured to her. “If it’s safe, lead the way. Go on.”

     She gently nudged the mare forward and the beast below her obeyed, slowly placing one hoof in front of the other along the path. Another snort, just as the wind changed slightly and Lea could smell something as well. Fire and burning flesh.

     “Fuck”, she hissed, then urged her horse to move faster. They trotted up to a plateau, which seemed to be the highest point of their current path, and halted. There was nothing around them that indicated a fire or what smelled like a burning corpse – but the smell was there, stronger than before. The mare refused to move near the wall of the mountain and instead stayed dangerously close to the cliffside. Lea got off her back and tied her reins to a small tree, before walking in the direction of the smell. On the way, she picked up a handful of ice cold pebbles and started throwing them at the mountain wall. Most simply bounced off, but then one seemingly disappeared.

     A hidden cave.

     Lea stepped through the barrier and looked at the still burning pyre within. It was impossible to tell how many bodies were placed on top of it, but she was quite certain who had placed them there and lit the fire that seemed to burn without needing to be monitored – and who had hidden the cave from view.

     Solas.

     She stepped back outside and got up on her horse again.

     “Good girl”, she whispered, before urging the horse forward along the path. Somehow, they had gone the right way. If Solas had stopped here to burn those bodies, he had either been attacked or found the bodies unburied. Unburied bodies could easily be possessed and thus it was customary to burn them, but by doing so he had cost himself some time. She was most likely not closer to catching up with him than she had been by the stream, considering she had dawdled down there for an hour before choosing to go this way, but her mood rose slightly at the thought that she had chosen right.

     Midday had passed when the path started to slope downwards again, still icy and treacherous. Down did, however, mean they would soon be able to move faster. And the temperature would rise. That she was looking forward to. Despite forcing herself to move both fingers and toes, she was starting to worry about losing one of them. Sure, she had survived without much more than this in the Frostbacks midwinter while trying to find Evelyn, but she doubted she would be that lucky twice.

     The moment the ground was free of ice and snow – and the temperature had gone up to a more comfortable one – she finally spotted evidence of someone going past here not too long ago. A twig, just at the side of the path, was trampled into the ground. Not the clearest evidence in the world – and even if it was a sign of something passing this way, it might have been someone or something other than Solas – but after finding the cave she was inclined to hope. She pushed her horse to go faster once more, as the hours ticked by and dusk slowly closed in on them. By the time it was dark and she was tracking by moon- and starlight again, she wondered if she should stop and rest. She was exhausted, but… she had to find Solas. And now that the ground was more even, she could ride faster. Cover more ground. Solas had most likely stopped for a while to rest and walk the Fade; this was her time to catch up with him.

     “Come on, girl”, she said, urging her horse to continue. “Just a little bit further. Then we can rest.”

     Her mare obeyed, despite huffing and sounding just as tired as Lea felt. They followed the path as it cut through a forest, winding and weaving but always moving west towards the plains. Narrowly they avoided being detected by a bear before bursting out of the forest onto a field dotted with large rocks and boulders. The smell of a fire hit her nose, but without the smell of burning flesh. A campfire? _Please be a campfire. Please be Solas._

     She was so busy with the thought of nearing Solas’ camp that she did not see the wolfpack until they had her and her mare surrounded. The mare reared up and neighed in panic – and Lea fell to the ground with a scream of her own, hitting her head. Stars exploded in front of her eyes and she tried to blink them away, tried to get up, tried to do anything, but she was so tired and the darkness just at the edge of her vision seemed so inviting and…

     A howl cut through the growls of the wolfpack surrounding her and made the wolves look up. Something heavy landed on the ground behind her. Then a shadow cast by moonlight fell across her – and a pair of large, black paws stepped over her. A large, black wolf was standing above her, growling threateningly at the other wolves in a way that seemed to make the very ground tremble. The wolfpack seemed to hesitate – and then they took off in search of easier prey. Not until they were gone did the wolf move so that it could face her.

     Six eyes, all glowing faintly red in the moonlight. It lowered its snout and she slowly managed to reach out and touch it with her hand.

     “Solas”, she whispered. The wolf gave her hand a quick lick, then moved to help her get up, pushed her to rise. She gripped at its black fur as the world spun and her legs were too weak to support her weight. The wolf huffed, then lowered itself so that it was lying down. It nudged her with its snout again and she slowly manoeuvred herself so that she had one leg on either side of its back. The moment she had, it rose and started to run, faster than any other beast, yet with steps so gentle it felt like flying. The motion easily lulled her to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to listen to the same music I listen to while writing this story, go check out this playlist right here: **https://open.spotify.com/user/1150816460/playlist/7qIQQ8zqWjtPtDcsSVkxOY**  
>  At the moment the music is only from the official DA:I soundtrack - albeit in a slightly different order from time to time - but more music, mainly instrumental, will be added to it later on.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Tell me a story”, he said. She raised her eyebrows._   
>  _“A story?”_   
>  _“From your world. What stories do they tell children there?”_   
>  _“Fairy tales about trapped princesses and dashing knights”, Lea replied with a slight chuckle. “Many of them bored me to death because the princesses were always so helpless. There were versions where they did more, though – where they became their own heroes and saviours.”_

She woke with arms wound tightly around her and the press of a hard chest at her back. Her first thought was that it was Cullen – but the arms felt too nimble. Strong, yes, but they were not the size of Cullen’s arms. Slowly she opened her eyes and took in her surroundings. A forest. All she could see was a forest. Trees, trees and yet more trees. Her mare was secured to one such tree, a larger black stallion to another nearby. There was an extinguished campfire not far from where she was and behind her…

     Solas.

     She had found him – or he had found her. And he had been in wolf form. The same form she had seen in his memory.

     Had he been able to shift like that ever since she first met him? She had almost believed it was a gift he no longer possessed.

     The arms around her tightened.

     “You are awake.”

     His voice was low in her ear and there was an edge to his words, as if he was angry with her. She gritted her teeth; she was the one who had the right to be angry with him, not the other way around!

     “I am”, she replied. Solas was quiet for a long time; he must have heard the edge to her own words.

     “ _Fenedhis_ ”, he then muttered. She raised her eyebrows slightly at the curse.

     “What was that for?”

     “You scared me. I thought you…”

     His voice drifted off, while his arms tightened around her once again.

     “You should not have come”, he said.

     “Well, you should not have left like you did”, Lea snapped back and pushed free of his grip, rising to her feet. The world spun as she rose and her head pounded slightly, causing her to groan and close her eyes. Solas was there at once, steadying her.

     “Why did you come?” he asked. She did not answer at once – mainly because she was not sure how. Solas would certainly not laugh at her dream, but would he think it was enough reason to blindly chase after him? She felt him move, from her back to standing straight in front of her.

     “Lea”, he said, “why did you come?”

     She looked up and was slightly taken aback by the fact that Solas was shirtless. And barefoot. Yet he did not seem even slightly bothered by the chilly spring air around them. In fact, his hands were warm – too warm. His chest and arms had been as well, she realized.

     “Lea”, he prompted, “why did you come?”

     “Because I saw you die”, she replied. Solas frowned.

     “I dreamed about you”, she continued. “You were running through the forest – the one from your memories – but you were… not in wolf form. I was chasing you. We reached the river, you jumped and…”

     Her voice faltered – and Solas’ expression softened. He pulled her against him and she let the first tear fall. Then another.

     “When I couldn’t find you…”

     “I’m sorry”, he said. “ _Fenedhis_ , I’m so sorry. I did not think you would worry about me.”

     “Why are you even out here?” she whispered. “Why… Solas, you’re burning up!”

     She pushed back from him, blinked the tears from her eyes and reached up to touch his face.

     “You’re not sick, are you?”

     He chuckled slightly.

     “I’m quite well”, he replied and took her hand from his face, squeezing it reassuringly. “The heat is a side-effect from shifting. It’s why I cannot do it in a place like Skyhold; I do not think the Inquisition would appreciate me going about my business clad like this.”

     “Dorian would”, Lea said with an attempted smile. Solas chuckled again.

     “Perhaps he would then get something other than my clothes to remark upon”, he wryly remarked. 

     “He admires your work, you know”, Lea replied. “He doesn’t tell you, but he does.” 

     Solas looked like he doubted those words. 

     “What’s shifting like?” she asked, changing the subject. Her friend looked remarkably relieved. 

     “It’s… at first, it was always painful. I sometimes tried not to shift, despite every part of my being wanting to do it. Then I learned how to do it more smoothly using the Fade – and the pain went away. It became as natural as breathing. However, shifting back is still more difficult. Usually I go to sleep as a wolf and wake up as a man.” 

     He paused. 

     “Which was what happened last night”, he then added. “If I had been able to shift back at will… I understand waking up with me like this might be uncomfortable.” 

     “Solas”, she said, “it’s fine. I’m not uncomfortable, just surprised.” 

     She looked around the campsite. It was clear that Solas had not intended to head out further than this; the things he had brought along with him had been set out in a fashion not customary for a brief campsite and his horse had no saddle or bridle on, but a rope halter. 

     “How long would you have stayed here?” she asked. “Did you plan on coming back?” 

     “Of course”, Solas replied. “I had no intention of leaving for long. But I have not shifted since before Haven. After a while, it becomes like an unbearable itch that needs to be scratched.” 

     He looked around them as well. 

     “I found this place yesterday, set up camp and shifted at once. I hunted, ate, ran. And then I heard your scream.” 

     He closed his eyes briefly. 

     “When I saw you on the ground, surrounded by the pack… I feared I was too late. You were hardly moving.” 

     “You saved me”, Lea said, reaching up to touch his cheek. He leaned into the touch. 

     “ _Ir_ _abelas_ _,_ _lethallin_ ”, he murmured. 

     “Apology accepted”, she replied, smiling at him. After a moment, he returned the gesture. 

     “Now”, he said and pulled back, “I suppose we should both have something to eat.” 

     He let go of her and walked over to the campfire, lighting it with a simple wave of his hand. Then he took out an already skinned rabbit from a chest Lea suspected was enchanted to keep the contents cool and fresh, stuck it onto a spit and started roasting it. 

     “I thought you’d just eat as a wolf”, Lea remarked and sat down opposite him. Solas smiled slightly. 

     “I do both. This I caught on the way here and decided to keep for later. It’s enough for both of us.” 

     He paused, turning the rabbit. 

     “I must say, I wonder how you managed to track me down.” 

     Lea huffed. 

     “Skill and luck combined. You had me stumped by that stream when your tracks vanished. I was lucky I got on the right trail after that – and that you’d not travelled further.” 

     “Yes. I did decide to hide my tracks from then on, just in case I was followed. It was not something I counted on, but I’ve learned not to dismiss Leliana’s men so easily. Or you, it would seem.” 

     He chuckled slightly and turned the rabbit again. 

     “Solas”, she said as the silence stretched on, “if you want me to, I can leave. I can go back to Skyhold, let you…” 

     “No.” 

     His voice was sharp as he spoke, instantly making her fall quiet. He sighed and bowed his head. 

     “If you have time to stay, I would like you to”, he said. “It’s… better not to be alone. Especially since you know who and what I am.” 

     “Then I’ll stay”, she promised. 

* * *

After breakfast, Lea contacted Dorian to let him know that she had found Solas and that they would be on their way back soon. Dorian sounded tired as he responded – most likely he had not completely woken up yet – but told her to let Solas know that the next time he had to get some space, a note would have been nice. After that, Lea and Solas continued the discussions they always had at Skyhold. However, the elven mage seemed intent on not discussing their last visit to the Fade. Nor did he suggest they go there now. Instead the topics were history, politics, tactics, geography, and everything in-between. 

     A while after they had had their meagre lunch consisting of dried fruit, cheese and meat, Solas brought her with him to a nearby pond. The water was crystal clear and the surface as still as a mirror – almost as if it was still frozen. As they sat down next to it, Solas fell silent, looking pensive.

     “What?” Lea asked. 

     “Tell me a story”, he said. She raised her eyebrows. 

     “A story?” 

     “From your world. What stories do they tell children there?”

     “Fairy tales about trapped princesses and dashing knights”, Lea replied with a slight chuckle. “Many of them bored me to death because the princesses were always so helpless. There were versions where they did more, though – where they became their own heroes and saviours.”

     “So tell me one of those”, Solas prompted. He had put his shirt and shoes back on before they had lunch, his temperature having gone back down to normal, and now he leaned back against one of the nearby trees, giving her a small smile.

     “Tell me a story that inspired you. That made you into who you are now.”

     Lea sighed and turned away from him, looking out across the water.

     “Once upon a time”, she then said, “there was a prince, living in a magnificent castle with his court. The prince was spoiled, cruel and cold-hearted, but no one dared argue with his demands. Then one night, while the prince was hosting a grand ball, a beggar came to the door, asking for food and shelter for the night. In return, she offered the prince a single rose. The prince laughed at the beggar, announcing that he had the grandest rose garden in all the lands. Why would he then be interested in a single rose as payment for food and a place to sleep?”

     She paused, but did not turn to look at Solas. Mostly because she was afraid of reading something on his face that would indicate he was not enjoying what she was talking about.

     “As he moved to slam the door in the beggar’s face, she suddenly changed, becoming a beautiful enchantress. Announcing that the prince would be punished for his cold heartedness, she enchanted the rose she had offered and then transformed everyone in the castle. The servants and guests all turned into living household objects, and the prince she transformed into a vicious looking beast. The enchanted rose was placed in one of the castle towers and the enchantress explained that, in order to break the curse and return everyone to their former selves, the prince had to fall in love with someone and have them fall in love with him before the last petal fell.”

     Solas moved. She heard him rise from where he was seated and walk over to her where she sat, closer to the shore. She continued her story without looking at him.

     “In a nearby village, there lived a merchant and his daughter, Belle. Belle was known for her beauty, but few men ever approached her, since she was also clever and bookish – traits that were not appreciated by the people of this particular village. Thus Belle was often alone and, behind her back, people whispered about her strangeness. One day, Belle’s father headed away from the village to attend a market in a different town. On the way he was ambushed by wolves and sought refuge in an old castle hidden deep within the woods. He found food waiting for him on a table, but was then frightened by strange household objects that moved on their own. Running back outside, he spotted a grand rose garden and decided to pick a rose for his daughter. However, as he did this, a large beast appeared and accused him of stealing. The beast then locked the merchant in his dungeon. In the village, Belle waited for her father’s return. When only his horse came back, she hurriedly left her home in search for him. She found the beast’s castle and her locked-up father, as well as the beast, and demanded she’d be allowed to take her father’s place. The beast agreed and sent the merchant away in a magical carriage, once Belle had promised to stay in the castle forever.”

     She paused again and glanced at Solas. He was not looking at her; instead his gaze was focused out across the pond, his face intense in the way it always was when he was listening with every fibre of his being.

     “Belle soon befriended the transformed servants, but while exploring the castle, she stumbled upon the room where the enchanted rose was held. The beast, enraged to find her there, scared her into leaving the castle, despite her promise. On the way through the forest, she found herself cornered by wolves. She tried to fight them off, but soon found herself at wit’s end. However, right when the wolves were about to make their final strike, the beast appeared and defended Belle, injuring himself in the process. Belle, unable to simply leave him in the forest, brought him back to the castle and nursed him back to health. During these months, Belle and the beast developed a close friendship, especially upon discovering how much they both enjoyed reading. Once the beast was fully recovered, the two hosted a private ball, during which the beast gave Belle a magic mirror, through which she would be able to see her father. Upon looking into the mirror, Belle realized that her father was in danger back in the village, having been declared a madman as he had been rambling about the beast and the magical castle. The beast, who had fallen in love with Belle, realized he could never hold her with him if that meant forcing her to be unhappy as she had not been able to save her father – and released her. Belle rode back to the village and used the magic mirror to prove her father’s sanity by showing the people there the beast. However, the town’s people turned on Belle and her father, believing the beast would come to harm them sooner rather than later, and trapped both of them in a carriage while heading towards the castle to kill the beast. Belle and her father eventually managed to escape and the merchant urged his daughter to hurry back to the beast and save him, having learned how much Belle cared for him. Belle rode straight for the castle and arrived just as the beast was fatally wounded by a hunter, who sought to win Belle’s hand in marriage. As the beast lay dying, Belle told him that she loved him, just as the last petal of the rose fell. The curse broke and the beast, the servants and the nobles who had attended the prince’s ball were all restored to their human forms. Now a prince again, the beast asked Belle to marry him, a request she agreed to with all of her heart.”

     She fell silent, wondering if – no, _when_ – Solas would share his opinions on the story. Instead she was surprised by the feeling of a cold snout pressing against her cheek, causing her to jump in shock. The black wolf – Solas in wolf form – stood before her, his six eyes now blue instead of red. She had not noticed him shifting.

     “Speechless, huh?” she asked him. The wolf huffed, then nudged her leg in a way that reminded of her father’s dog, when he wanted her to get up. Thus she rose – and Solas in wolf form looked pleased. He then turned and walked ahead of her back to camp. Once there, he took off into the forest at blinding speed, leaving her alone. She muttered a foul word under her breath, before trying to figure out what to do next.

     Solas did not return until the sun started to set, gingerly carrying another rabbit in his jaws. As he was unable to simply shift back, Lea abandoned her previous task – polishing their saddles and bridles – and instead set to skinning the dead animal. Solas curled up nearby, eyeing her as she prepared the rabbit, then roasted it over the fire. It was a strange feeling to know he could hear and understand her, while she had trouble doing the same in return. However, the silence was not a terrible nuisance. It was rather nice, actually.

     As the stars appeared overhead, she found herself humming a quiet tune.

     “What song is that?”

     She jumped in shock. Once again, Solas had changed without her realizing it – and that meant he was, once again, not wearing a shirt. His skin was flushed and the snow around his feet had melted away thanks to his increase in body temperature.

     “It’s… nothing”, she replied and turned back to look up at the stars again. A few moments later, Solas sat down next to her. He held a shirt in his hands, she noted. He must have considered putting it on right away for some reason, despite his previous explanations of it making him uncomfortably warm.

     “It’s from your world, correct?” he asked.

     “In a way”, she admitted, causing him to give her an incredulous look. “I mean, yes, it’s from my world, but it’s associated with a fictional world.”

     “Ah.”

     “Terrible explanation, I know”, Lea muttered. Solas chuckled.

     “From what I saw of your world in your memory, there are a lot of unexpected and, to me, unexplainable things in there. Although I am curious, I do not expect you to explain them.”

     They fell silent again, gazing up at the stars together.

     “Perhaps I can show you”, she said after a while, an idea forming in her head. “I can’t promise that it’ll work, but maybe… it’s in the details, right?”

     “ _Lethallin_ ”, Solas said, “are you sure?”

     “If it works, it’d be absolutely amazing. Trust me.”

     She lay back down, the ground around them free of snow thanks to Solas. In fact, she was not sure she could even touch his hand without getting burned.

     The transition into the Fade happened, as always, without her being able to pinpoint when – suddenly they were just there, her lying down, him sitting up, surrounded by trees. Lea closed her eyes and concentrated, forced herself to recall every miniscule detail of what she wanted to show her friend. She felt like she had been lying there for hours when the ground beneath her suddenly shifted from grass to rock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your wonderful comments! I hope you keep enjoying this story as it progresses - I have a pretty good outline for the whole thing right now, so all that's needed is time ;) The only days when my writing time's restricted are Mondays and Tuesdays, but sometimes I end up working on another project or I have brought work with me home that I need to finish up, but usually I can write at least bits and pieces for this during the other days of the week. I've already penned down a version of the ending (it will without a doubt have changed a bit by the time I actually get there, but it's an idea at least).
> 
> Go check out the playlist for this story ( **https://open.spotify.com/user/1150816460/playlist/7qIQQ8zqWjtPtDcsSVkxOY** ) - make sure you listen from beginning to end - and feel free to comment some suggestions for music pieces that you think suit this story. The playlist will be updated every so often with new pieces :)


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Who was it?” she asked. Solas was quiet for a long time before he eventually replied – and he did not turn around._   
>  _“A friend. One of my closest friends. A spirit of Wisdom.”_   
>  _“It asked us to help…”_   
>  _“It’s been captured by mages”, he replied. “Thanks to my connection with it, it was able to pass information about what had happened and its whereabouts to me. We’re only hours away from it.”_

“We’re in a cave”, Solas observed just as she opened her eyes. He was frowning slightly – and was by now wearing a shirt. Apparently the time it had taken her to conjure this place had been enough for him to cool down.

     “Are you alright?” he asked, concern lacing his words.

     “Fine”, she said, although her whole body was trembling as she rose. Most likely due to both anticipation and exertion. She straightened her back and walked forward, towards the cave’s opening and the sunlight that shone outside.

     Solas halted abruptly as the view outside appeared. His eyes were wide in shock.

     “Where is this?” he asked.

     “It’s called Rivendell”, Lea replied.

     “It’s elven.”

     “Yes.”

     He turned to stare at her.

     “How?” he asked. “You’ve told me there are no elves in your world, yet here is a place that clearly is – or once was – built by them.”

     “Is it like Arlathan?” she asked.

     “Not quite”, he replied. “Arlathan… it was bigger. Much bigger. And this place is more in tune with what grows around it than Arlathan was at my time. This is… what elves were supposed to be.”

     He looked towards the buildings in the valley below them, then back at her again.

     “How?” he asked once more.

     “I don’t know how they’re so similar”, Lea admitted, “but this was not real in my world. I wish it had been. It’s… it’s called a movie. It’s like a theatre you can watch and re-watch, pause, rewind, speed up at your own leisure, in your own home. This movie is based on a popular fictional novel that I used to read once every year – and the sets they created for Rivendell, using various technologies, it just stuck in my head.”

     Solas still did not look like he understood how this was possible – but then again, neither did she. She had not expected this to work, for her memory to be this clear regarding the details of what the movie had shown her. For it to translate into a three-dimensional place in the Fade.

     She took Solas’ hand, finding that it indeed did not burn her and that he had cooled down, and, suddenly, they were on the bridge leading across the roaring river, towards the first courtyard. Up the stairs they went, then up another set, into a house, out onto a balcony. She doubted it all actually connected like this, but here, in this Fade-version, they could skip the bits she did not know. Solas rested his free hand on the railing of the balcony and looked out across the chasm.

     “You’re awfully quiet”, she remarked.

     “You’ve surprised me, yet again”, he replied, turning towards her. “I should start to expect the unexpected when it comes to you, _lethallin_.”

     She smiled slightly, then tugged on his hand.

     “Come. I’ve left the best part for last.”

     They headed into another house and Solas let out a slight gasp at the library that now appeared all around them, the texts and artefacts seemingly ancient even in this Fade-version of a fictional universe. She turned to smile up at him and realized that his gaze was not on the books or the parchment rolls she had thought he was eyeing. They were on a shadow moving ahead of them up a set of stairs.

     “I did not…” Lea begun, but Solas hushed her.

     “I believe it wishes us to follow.”

     Slowly they walked forward, up the stairs to the landing above. The shadow was standing by a statue holding a tray of broken sword pieces – and now that they were closer, it was not a shadow, but a tall elven man wearing fine robes in various shades of gold and amber. His hair was long and dark and crowned by a golden circlet. He was not looking in their direction, but Lea still found her right hand going to her heart and then out in the gesture she associated with an elven greeting in this place.

     “My Lord Elrond?”

     “That’s not…” Solas begun, but was interrupted by the shadow.

     “ _Mana… ma halani… mana… ma halani…_ ”

     Lea tried to wrap her head around what she was hearing. That voice was definitely not the voice of the actor who played Lord Elrond – and the words were not in any of Tolkien’s languages, but in the elven language that Solas had taught her bits and pieces of. And she knew that phrase.

     It was asking for help.

     Solas yanked the two of them out of the Fade so fast that, the moment they were back in the real world, Lea had to roll over and throw up as pain exploded through her head. When she eventually stopped, she was too weak to do anything but lie back down with a grunt. Opening her eyes was not a good idea; the mere idea of bright morning sunlight – which she could feel on her cheeks – was enough to make the nausea return. They had been in the Fade all night, it seemed.

     “ _Ir abelas_ ”, Solas murmured, though he sounded like he was nowhere near where she lay.

     “I’ll be fine”, she croaked. A fire roared to life and there was the soft sound of metal objects clinking together. Some minutes later, she heard water being poured from one container into another, then the soft sound of fabric rustling as Solas rose and walked in her direction. He placed an arm beneath her head and gently lifted her up, placing a cup to her lips.

     “Drink”, he ordered. She did. It was tea – the same kind of tea he had given her back in the rotunda, the morning he left. Slowly her headache and nausea diminished and she opened her eyes, which made Solas remove the cup from her lips. It took her a few seconds to focus on him – and it startled her to see how pale he looked.

     “Solas…”

     He shook his head and brushed her cheek with the hand that had previously held the cup.

     “No talking. Not now.”

     He placed her back down on the ground and rose. She pushed herself up on her elbows to watch him – despite every muscle in her body protesting against even that movement. She would not be surprised if a fast exit from the Fade could break bones, or at least leave bruises.

     Solas had stopped on the other side of the burning fire, drinking from his own cup of tea, shuddering with every swallow. If he had not been keeping his back to her, Lea was sure she would have seen him grimace.

     “Who was it?” she asked. Solas was quiet for a long time before he eventually replied – and he did not turn around.

     “A friend. One of my closest friends. A spirit of Wisdom.”

     “It asked us to help…”

     “It’s been captured by mages”, he replied. “Thanks to my connection with it, it was able to pass information about what had happened and its whereabouts to me. We’re only hours away from it.”

     “Then we’ll go and help it”, Lea said and attempted to push herself up more, but her arms protested too much and she slumped back with a curse. That made Solas turn.

     “We?” he asked. “ _Lethallin_ , you…”

     “You’re not going there alone”, Lea sharply replied, glaring at him in a way that probably was not very effective, considering she was lying flat on her back, unable to move. Solas walked over to her and lay down as well, in a way making them equals.

     “You’re hurt”, he stated.

     “The tea helped. I’ll be fine in no time.”

     Solas’ lips twitched slightly and his eyes flickered with an emotion she could not place. Exasperation, perhaps.

     “Tell me about your friend”, she prompted. “You said it was a spirit of Wisdom?”

     “Yes. It roamed the Fade, seeking lost wisdom and reflecting it. It had no desire to venture into this world, but if you sought it out in the Fade, it would happily discuss philosophy with you.”

     “And the mages who captured it, what do you think they wanted?”

     “I do not know”, Solas replied with a soft sigh. “It would have shared what lore and history it knew in the Fade if they sought it out there. Perhaps they sought information it did not have or that it did not wish to give – and intend to torture it.”

     “I’m sorry.”

     Solas did not reply.

     “We’ll find it, you know”, she continued. “We’ll free it, send it back into the Fade where it wants to be, and if the mages do not listen, I’ll pull the Inquisitor card.”

     His lips quirked up again. That made her smile as well.

     “See?” she said. “Everything will be alright.”

     “ _Ma serannas, lethallin_ ”, he said, reaching down to take her hand, his long fingers entwining with hers. Heat pulsed from his palm into the mark on her own and the feeling made her gasp. That was… odd. Solas had held her hand before, touched the mark, examined it. That was no rarity. But this was not like that. It was as if the mark recognized him, called to him.

     “Why is it doing that?” she asked.

     “Can you feel it?” he asked in return.

     “Solas, the Anchor is on my hand. Of course I can feel it!”

     Solas let out a small, exasperated sigh, moving from concerned friend to patient teacher in a flash. _Good_ , Lea thought, _him lecturing will give me time to get better and him a moment’s reprieve_.

     “I was not referring to the Anchor in particular”, he said. “I wondered if you could feel the way it just responded to my magic.”

     “Yes, I can”, Lea replied, “but I don’t understand why it’s doing it. It hasn’t before, has it? Or did it do that with Evelyn?”

     “While shifting, I tap into a part of my power that I cannot always access”, Solas explained. “It is ancient – and the Anchor was created with ancient tools. The orb. Part of its magic is, without a doubt, just as ancient as the power that I use while shifting – and it calls to my power now.”

     The mark hummed with energy as he spoke, as heat flared between their joined hands.

     “Tell me more”, she urged. “You’re a mage; describe what you feel.”

     Solas moved his thumb slightly, brushing it against the edge of the Anchor. Her toes curled in response, as if the gesture had not been just a simple brush of her palm, but a slow caress of a much more intimate kind.

     “I feel the powers touching”, Solas softly said, “dancing around one another, wary yet intrigued. I feel them reach out for the other, then pull back the instance they brush, both wanting and fearing the other. Fearing that they will be consumed by the other, but wanting it as well. Like a pair of lovers knowing that their desire will destroy the world if they ever give in to it, yet they have been fighting it for too long and soon will not care.”

     Heat pulsed once more – and then he let go of her hand, breaking the contact. Lea let out a gasp at the feeling of cold spring air hitting the Anchor instead of Solas’ heated palm. She fisted her hand briefly, trying to ignore the sudden feeling of loss.

     “How is your head?” Solas asked, making her look in his direction. He had risen and walked over to his horse, brushing it off in preparation for saddling. Lea was about to answer that the headache was still there – and then realized it was not. She felt full of energy.

     “You’re such a trickster at times”, she muttered and sat up as she realized that what Solas had actually been doing while holding her hand was helping her get better. He did not need to turn towards her for her to know he was grinning.

* * *

They rode west in silence, Solas taking the lead as he had a sense of where his friend was being held. The mountains and forests gave way to plains – the Exalted Plains – and along with it came the smell of rotten flesh and sightings of demons. They stayed clear of those for the most part – at one point they had to stop and take down a rage demon and a couple of wraiths as there was no way around them, but mostly they reached the Inquisition’s easternmost camp in the plains without any issues. The soldiers there were, of course, surprised to see their Inquisitor and her friend the elven apostate, but like all soldiers they did their duty and provided them with what they needed to continue.

     Lea estimated they had ridden another half an hour when Solas pulled his horse to a halt.

     “We’ll leave the horses”, he said and jumped down from the saddle.

     “We’re close, then?” she asked and jumped down as well. Her friend only nodded in reply. He was tense, a worried frown on his forehead. She wondered if he had attempted to contact the spirit again – and failed.

     They continued on foot, passing through clusters of rocks and small mountains. Then a gust of wind sent the smell of burned flesh up Lea’s nose. She staggered back, gagging.

     “What the bloody hell…”

     She paused when she saw the body, mere feet in front of her. It was a mage. That was easy enough to deduce since it was dressed in the robes of a Circle. However, it did not look burned. In fact the man seemed to have been killed by two arrows protruding from his chest.

     “ _Lethallin_?” Solas said, gently touching the small of her back with his hand in comfort.

     “What’s that smell?” she asked, eyes still on the mage’s body.

     “I suspect there are more corpses ahead”, Solas replied. “The arrows…”

     “Bandits”, Lea filled in, swallowing down the bile. “Perhaps the mages fought back, burned the bandits… but why would they then need to summon your friend?”

     She looked up at him and he shook his head in reply. He did not know.

     They found three burned bodies a short distance away, hidden behind a bend in the path. Lea stood back while Solas knelt down next to one of them, eyes narrowed.

     “These claw marks…”

     His voice drifted off and his head snapped up, eyes suddenly wide.

     “Solas?” Lea tried. He got back up on his feet – and took off.

     “Solas!”

     She ran after him, cursing him for having longer legs – and for being an elf with ridiculously good balance. He disappeared behind another large rock and she picked up her speed, hoping she would not lose track of him.

     Instead she nearly crashed into him once she rounded the rock herself.

     Solas’ eyes were trained on a group of rocky pillars ahead of them, gleaming with magic spells. Standing in the middle, as if the pillars were a cage, was a pride demon. Out of all the demons, Lea had always struggled the most with pride demons. They were large, strong and their electric attacks were absolutely horrible. Glancing at Solas, she saw the horror in his eyes as well, but it was a different kind of horror. This was not the look of someone terrified and ready to run. This was the look of someone who realized that something terrible had happened.

     “Solas?” she tried, touching his arm. He shook his head.

     “That’s… no. No!”

     His face changed from horror to rage. He bared his teeth like a wolf might do and every muscle in his body seemed intent on one thing. Revenge.

     Lea looked back at the pride demon and recalled the books Solas had lent her about demons and spirits. How demons were corrupted spirits, spirits who had been forced to do the opposite of what their original nature intended. And, once she got to that point, she slid her hand from his arm down to his hand. He gripped it with a fierceness that made her think it was the only thing grounding him in that moment.

     “That’s your friend, isn’t it?” she quietly asked. “It was corrupted?”

     Solas nodded tensely.

     “Yes.”

     “So those mages”, she continued, “they didn’t summon it to find information. They summoned it to fight?”

     Solas nodded again, then spun around as the grass to their right rustled. As he did, he placed himself between her and whatever was approaching, as if protecting her. If he intended to protect her from what was approaching or from himself, she was not sure.

     The man who appeared wore the robes of a Circle mage – and, somehow, he seemed to have no ability to read facial expressions whatsoever, because he looked relieved and overjoyed to see them. If Lea had not known Solas as well as she did – if the two of them had not been friends – she would have turned and run in the opposite direction after taking one look at the elf’s face.

     “A mage!” the man said, coming closer. “Oh, how glad I am to see you. Do you have any lyrium potions? Most of us are exhausted – we’ve been fighting that demon…”

     “You summoned that demon!” Solas bellowed. The mage stopped, blinked and looked at them in confusion.

     “It was a spirit of Wisdom – and you made it kill!” Solas continued. “You twisted it against its purpose!”

     “I… I… I…” the mage tried, then cleared his throat and begun anew. “I understand how it might be confusing to someone who has not studied demons, but after you help us, I can…”

     “We’re not here to help you”, Solas growled. It was in that moment that both men seemed to remember that Lea was standing there, as they both turned to face her. Solas’ face, although still enraged, also held a silent plea, asking her to agree with him. The Circle mage looked like he wanted to tell her to rein Solas in – as if she, a human, was worth ten times more than him, and elf. She took a step forward so that she stood side by side with her friend.

     “Word of advice?” she said, looking the mage in the eye. “I’d hold off on explaining how demons work to my friend here. And to lay off on the racist crap that I can see you thinking right now.”

     The Circle mage turned pale white for a moment – and then bright red.

     “How dare you? I was one of the foremost experts in the Kirkwall Circle…”

     “Shut. Up.”

     Solas ground out the words in a way that made her think he was fighting a battle with himself – and that the half of him that he tried to supress wanted to rip the mage in front of them to shreds.

     Honestly, she almost wanted to help him do that. Almost.

     “We found the bandits on the way here”, Lea said, drawing the mage’s attention once more. “You summoned the spirit, bound it to obedience and ordered it to kill. That’s when it turned, correct?”

     “I… yes.”

     “Can we make it turn back?” Lea asked and turned to Solas instead. He met her gaze, then looked in the direction of the pillars.

     “We break the summoning circle to break the binding”, he said, his voice still harsh. “No orders to kill, no conflict with its nature, no demon.”

     “Are you insane?” the Circle mage gasped. “That summoning circle is the only thing keeping it from killing us all! Whatever it was before, it’s a monster now.”

     “Well, if you don’t want to help us, stay the hell back”, Lea replied. Solas’ hand brushed against hers, as if in thanks.

     Then, as if it had heard them discussing its fate, the pride demon turned in its cage, fixed its eyes on them, and roared. The Circle mage yelped, then fled back in the direction he had come from.

     “One pillar at a time – or one each?” Lea asked and unsheathed her knives. Solas met her gaze.

     “Together”, he said. She held his gaze, swallowed, then nodded.

     “Together.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Alright”, she said, “let me tell you a story of a man. A man that many have met, but few know they have met, because that’s who he is. He is a man with a face like every other, with a wide smile and kind wave, but once you get close, you see that he is not quite who he first seems to be.”_   
>  _“How?” the first teenager asked._   
>  _“His eyes”, Lea replied. “You see, his eyes betray one of his great secrets. That he’ll live forever, see everything – the good and the bad – and be apart from it all. His eyes are heavy with all of this. With, above all, loneliness.”_   
>  _She paused. The crowd around her stayed silent._   
>  _“There is a man”, she said, “called the Doctor..."_

They moved forward. After all these months working together, they knew where the other was without looking. Lea knew when Solas raised his staff to unleash an attack on one of the pillars, knew that she needed to move aside a smidge to allow it a direct hit, and that, the moment the spirit-turned-demon advanced on the slightly damaged pillar, she had to move left, towards the next pillar. Her knives slashed through the air and hit the stone at the same time as Solas’ second attack. The first had been a diversion, to draw the demon away, and by the time the demon had turned to face them again, the pillar crumbled to the ground. And with this, the cage was broken – but the binding was not, and shattering the four other pillars would be far more difficult than the first. Demons were clever, in their own way, and a pride demon would seek out pride – such as the kind of pride you would feel when a battle manoeuvre worked. Lea could feel the temptation in the back of her head, urging her to try the same thing again. She knew Solas felt the same thing.

     Neither acted on it.

     Instead they ran in opposite directions around the pillars, meeting on the other side of the circle, and struck together again. The demon was closer this time and when the pillar shattered, Lea had to duck to avoid a ball of electricity shooting towards her head. As she came back up, she found the demon laughing. The sound echoed and scraped against the stones around them.

     “ _Lethallin_!” Solas called, making her realize she had stopped fighting, stopped following in the dance to break the circle of stone pillars, and that the demon was almost upon her. She jumped aside with a curse as the demon slammed its fist into the ground where she had just been standing. Her mind spun. She had fought other pride demons, heard them laugh, been attacked by them, but it had never affected her like this. What was going on?

     She shook her head and rushed after Solas, who had destroyed a third pillar on his own while she stood frozen and was now moving towards the next. His eyes met hers briefly and she shook her head slightly, before attacking the pillar with her knives. She was glad Dagna – their arcanist – had placed new runes on her weapons recently, or cutting into magic barrier stones would have been a much more difficult task.

     The pillar crumbled and they moved towards the fifth and last one. The demon was already there. It had anticipated them and had already forget an electric whip, which shot out towards them in a sparkling arc. The tip of it hit the barrier Solas had put up around them, inches in front of Lea’s face. After her earlier standstill, she did not allow herself to react. She simply kept moving forward, dodging another swipe of the whip, then a clawed hand, dancing around the pillar and slamming into it with both blades. Once, twice, three times. Cracks spread like wildfire. She guessed two more hits – from either her or Solas – would send it crumbling to dust. Would free the demon and turn it back into a spirit.

     That was when Lea realized Solas had not attacked this pillar even once. Also, the demon had not come after her.

     She spun away from the pillar just in time to see Solas being thrown to the ground by the demon. The one that had, in its spirit form, been his friend. He was twitching uncontrollably – he must have been hit by a bolt of electricity the moment his barrier went down. The demon threw its head back and laughed. Solas managed to turn his head slightly, met her gaze, and she knew. She knew that he was too weak to defend himself and that he would not attempt to attack, as this demon was – somewhere deep inside of it – still his friend.

     The world seemed to slow around her as the monster turned in her direction and grinned, then raised its hand to deliver the final blow.

     The scream that tore from her throat was inhuman. Then she was moving, knives in her hands, poised to kill. Something sharp bit into her left cheek, her left leg, her left shoulder, her back. She did not stop. Her legs carried her forward and the part of her brain that managed logic and reason seemed to have been shut down. Instead there was a buzzing sound, like the static of an old TV, filling her head – except for two words.

     _Not him._

     Later, she would ask herself what she would have done had Solas’ hand not brushed against her calf in that last moment, alerting her to the fact that he was alive – and the demon was a demon no more. Instead it was a woman – or a shade of a woman. Its shape was nearly transparent as it fell to its knees, looking up at her – Lea – with eyes that were glowing, green beacons.

     Lea stared down at the woman, trying to understand what the hell had just happened. It was a spirit again. _This_ was Solas’ friend, the one they had come to save – but how had it reverted back to its original form? She turned her head towards where the last pillar should have been and found it gone, but not turned to dust like the others. Instead there were shards littered in a circle around where it had been standing. As if it had been blown up in an explosion.

     “ _Ir tel’him_ ”, the spirit whispered. No, not whispered; it gasped the words, as if it was running out of breath. As if it could not breathe at all. Lea’s head snapped back towards it and she realized it was trembling where it knelt. Not in fear or terror – she was not certain spirits could feel such things at all – but in the way a flame might tremor and flicker before it was extinguished.

     “ _Ir abelas_ ”, Solas said behind Lea and she turned to find him on his knees as well, his eyes on the spirit. He looked devastated – and at the sight of that expression, Lea knew that the spirit, although returned to its original form, would not survive.

     It was dying.

     “ _Tel’abelas_ ”, the spirit said. “ _Ma melava halani_.”

     Lea took a step back, then another, and another, avoiding Solas as she went. The part of her brain that saw patterns and tried to piece together puzzles had switched back on – and it was desperately trying to understand what was going on. The pillar had exploded. How, she did not know, but it did explain why she now found tears in her clothes, shallow wounds in the skin that had been hidden beneath the fabric, why her hand came away red when she touched her cheek and why her back hurt like hell. She had been hit by shrapnel, but in her blind rage she had been so filled up with adrenaline that she had not even noticed.

     She would not even have noticed that the spirit had changed back if Solas had not managed to touch her calf.  
     Which brought her mind to the fact that she seemed to have moved far too fast between the pillar and the site where Solas and the spirit – then pride demon – had been standing. Not even filled with adrenaline should she have been able to cover that distance in time for him not to be hit. Had he managed to put up a barrier? Protected himself? Or had the demon frozen in place as it changed back into a spirit, buying her time? Or was it the explosion that had flung her forward and she had simply been lucky to land on her feet, still running?

     Her head throbbed with all of these questions. She dropped her knives and rubbed at her temples with a wince. When she looked up, she saw Solas raise his hands, palms up, and the spirit dissolved.

     “ _Dareth shiral_.”

     His voice was hollow as he spoke, the voice of a man who was grieving. And, if Lea had interpreted his previous gesture correctly, the voice of a man who had just been asked to give his dear friend a quick and merciful death. He got to his feet and turned towards her. With two long strides he was in front of her, touching the cut on her face with the tips of his fingers.

     “You…” he whispered, then shook his head. He looked like he was in part worried, in part curious. Intrigued.

     “Are you alright?” she asked, touching his cheek in turn. He closed his eyes and gave a slight nod.

     “I’m not hurt. But you… how?”

     “How what?”

     “The pillar”, he said, “it exploded at your touch.”

     Her eyes widened and she took a step back, her gaze quickly dropping to her hands. The Anchor. If the pillar had exploded because of her, the Anchor was the one thing that might have caused it. She was, after all, not a mage – nor had she attempted to create an explosive concoction to coat her weapons with, like Sera sometimes did.

     “How…” she breathed, “why… what…”

     She only got the first words of every question that spun through her head out as she tried to spot any change in how the Anchor appeared on her palm. Or in how the power of it felt. But there was nothing. It did not feel different. _She_ did not feel different.

     “ _Lethallin_ …”

     Solas’ hands took her own. There was no connection between his power and the Anchor this time, which was most likely a good thing. She was not sure she would have been able to handle that as well at this point.

     “Look at me”, he said, and she did. His pale blue eyes, although still filled with sadness for the loss of his friend, looked at her with such gentleness, and kindness, and compassion, and she felt her panicked heartbeat slowly going back to normal.

     “You”, he said, “are the same. You are you, _lethallin_. This was simply something we did not know the Anchor was capable of. It has not changed you.”

     She breathed in deeply through her nose, then out through her mouth, before she nodded. He took another step towards her and pressed his lips to her forehead, the way he always did, but for some reason, as if she had unknowingly counted the length of those kisses before, she knew he lingered this time. Perhaps it was in the way she, at the same time, felt him tighten the grip on her hands, as if he was fighting a battle with himself. About what, she was not sure.

     Then he pulled back and his face changed into a snarl. She blinked in surprise, before she glanced behind him and saw the group of people heading towards them.

     The Circle mages.

     “Thank you.”

     It was the man who had approached them before, who had fled the moment they prepared to fight the demon. Lea felt contempt well up inside of her. There were four mages – _four_ – and regardless of how much power they had already spent, she was certain they would have been able to help out with at least one spell each. Considering what had just happened… she wanted to believe that four extra hands, four extra spells, would have kept Solas from ever being in danger. Then she would not have caused the pillar to explode and she could have lived on without knowing that her touch might be able to destroy stone.

     “We would not have risked a summoning”, the mage continued, “but the roads are dangerous to travel unprotected. The bandits…”

     “You”, Solas snarled, letting go of Lea’s hands and advancing on the group of mages, “you tortured my friend. You _killed_ my friend.”

     The mages paled and backed away.

     “We didn’t know it was just a spirit”, another one, a woman, tried. “The book said it could help us!”

     Solas’ growl was anything but human. Then there was a flash and a wave of heat, causing Lea to shield her eyes. When she was able to look up again, she saw Solas standing there, his back to her, and surrounded by burning corpses. Burning with the same sort of eternal, quiet fire she had seen in the hidden cave while searching for him.

     “Damn them all”, he growled. She took a step towards him.

     “No”, he said, causing her to stop.

     “Solas…”

     “I will need some time alone”, he said, his voice clipped. “Go back to Skyhold.”

     “Solas…”

     He shifted into a wolf and ran, faster than any normal wolf might run. Lea cursed, picked up her fallen weapons off the ground and meant to take off after him, before realizing it was pointless. He would not let her catch up.

     “Bloody bastard”, she muttered and sheathed her knives. She refused to look back at the corpses as she left the way they had previously come. The left side of her body – and her back – hurt from the shrapnel hits, which meant it took her a while to make it back to their horses. She eyed Solas’ horse thoughtfully. He could run back to Skyhold as a wolf, or the mountains near it, change out of sight from the guards and walk into the fortress without anyone knowing his secret, but she doubted he would do that. After all, he had left riding a horse. Coming back without it would generate questions.

     So if she brought his horse with her to some place where she would be able to wait for him, he would have to come back to her first. And she was not planning on returning to Skyhold without him.

     She untied Solas’ horse and instead fastened its reins to the saddle of her own horse. Getting up into the saddle was a painful affair, but eventually she got there and gave her mare a gentle nudge, urging her forward. Together their little caravan started to move back east, at a much slower pace than they had arrived there in. As the sun was beginning to set, Lea doubted they would even make it back to the Inquisition camp before nightfall. Not that that mattered much; if Solas returned any time soon, a camp full of soldiers would most likely not be where he would like to be.

     As they neared a narrow stream, Lea spotted another camp, one very different from the Inquisition camp she had thought of aiming for.

     This camp was Dalish.

     She had met this clan of Dalish elves before – in fact she had helped them with a few minor tasks during her last visit to the Exalted Plains and one of them, a young elf named Loranil, had decided to join the Inquisition itself. The clan’s keeper, Hawen, had taken some time warming up to her and her companions, but by now they considered each other allies.

     As she found her way to the nearby crossing, she heard shouts from the camp. Not angry or terrified shouts, thankfully – she was not sure she would have been able to go through another battle right about now – but welcoming ones. A Dalish elf ran towards her as she and the horses exited the stream. Ithiren, she remembered. He had been one of the more welcoming clan members from the start. Now he took her reins and smiled up at her.

     “ _Aneth ara,_ Inquisitor”, he said. She smiled back.

     “Good evening, Ithiren.”

     She bent forward to take his outstretched hand in greeting, but pain stabbed at her side, made her wince and pull back. Ithiren’s happy expression changed into one of worry.

     “Are you hurt?” he asked. “Has there been a battle? Our _halla_ have been worried lately; we believed the war between the two cousins had begun anew.”

     “Just a minor skirmish”, Lea replied and managed to get down onto the ground. Her left leg gave way beneath her and she would have fallen onto the grass had Ithiren not managed to catch her.

     “You’re bleeding”, he observed, a frown on his face as he spoke. “Come, we must see to your wounds at once.”

     He used one arm to support her and the other to lead the two horses along. As they neared the camp, more and more of the Dalish appeared. They spoke in elven – sometimes so fast that Lea could not understand them, but she understood the tone. Concern. Worry.

     “Inquisitor.”

     That was the keeper, Hawen. The crowd parted for him as he approached, and just like Ithiren he was frowning, his dark eyes looking her over for injuries. Then he turned and spoke in rapid elven at a woman Lea vaguely remembered to be the clan’s head healer – in part due to the _vallaslin_ surrounding her left eye. The woman nodded, then signalled at Ithiren. Ithiren, in turn, gave the reins of the two horses to another elf, before leading Lea through the camp to one of the tents.

     “Remove your armour and lie down, Inquisitor”, the elven woman said. “On your right side.”

     Ithiren had to help her follow the instructions, but eventually she was on the blankets the healer had pointed at. The male elf then gave a quick bow, before exiting the tent.

     “I’ll have to cut your clothes”, the healer said once he was gone. Lea frowned.

     “Is it that bad?”

     “The fabric is already ruined. And it’s stuck to the wounds.”

     Lea winced, then nodded and the woman got to work. Bit by bit, her shirt fell away, then her trousers. No wonder Ithiren had left when he had. The healer – who had introduced herself as Nariel – tutted as she inspected the wounds.

     “What did you run into?” she asked, while preparing some herbal mix to clean the cuts.

     “Magical barrier stones”, Lea replied. “One of them exploded.”

     Nariel raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

     “That seems… unusual.”

     Lea did not reply – and Nariel asked no further questions. Instead the healer handed her patient a bit, before beginning to clean the wounds with the burning mix. When Nariel eventually claimed to be done, Lea at least prided herself on the fact that she had not screamed too loud – but if this ever happened again, she would ask for something that made her sleep instead.

     Nariel bandaged the wounds – those she could bandage, anyway. There was nothing she could do about the wound on Lea’s face. It was small, though, and now that it was clean it should heal without scarring in a few days.

     “I’d advise you not to fight in any battles for a few weeks”, Nariel said while cleaning her hands, “but I doubt the Inquisitor would listen to that.”

     “I’d listen”, Lea replied, “but the world wouldn’t.”

     Nariel nodded thoughtfully, before quickly disappearing out through the tent. When she came back she held a bundle of clothes, which she handed to Lea. Dalish clothes, of course. Lea considered asking for her own second shirt, which was in her saddle bag, but then shrugged at herself and started dressing. A difficult task with her left side stiffer than a log.

     “Who was your companion?” Nariel asked while Lea was putting on her armour again. “I doubt you’d travel with two war horses for the fun of it. Not when you’re reasonably close to one of your own camps.”

     “Solas”, Lea replied, glaring at the armour pieces she still had not put on, as if that would make them attach themselves to her shoulders and chest, without her having to struggle with it.

     “The apostate?”

     Lea nodded. During their last visit to this Dalish camp, the clan here had quickly realized that Solas did not associate himself with them, nor the city elves. He was something else altogether – and so the Dalish did not refer to him as an elven apostate, only an apostate.

     She wondered how they might react if they had known the truth.

     “Is he…”

     “He’s alive”, Lea interrupted. “Just… he needed some time alone. I didn’t want to go too far…”

     It sounded like a terrible explanation – and it was. If Solas needed to be alone, why take his horse from him? And why had she not headed in the direction of the Inquisition camp?

     “You must be tired”, Nariel said.

     “A bit”, Lea admitted, in part because she was, in part because that might provide a good explanation as to why she was making little sense.

     “There’s a place prepared for you tonight”, the healer said. “You’ll be able to rest and heal. If you need to stay longer, let keeper Hawen know. He might be grumpy about it at first, but you have earned his respect.”

     Lea smiled slightly at that. She had guessed Hawen was simply naturally grumpy; after her first few interactions with him, she had simply let that grumpiness slide.

     She bent to gather the armour pieces she was unable to put on before she had healed a bit more. Nariel tutted again as Lea cursed at her stiff body, then collected the pieces herself.

     “Come along”, she said as she straightened. “You need to move about a bit before sleeping – keep the stiffness at bay. For a bit, at least.”

     Lea gritted her teeth and nodded. She knew. Exerting herself too much would not help even the slightest, but lying completely still would not either. She had to move, stretch her muscles, to keep herself from being in pain for too long.

     Nariel led the way out of the tent, Lea limping slightly as she followed. The rest of the camp was full of life and talk, people sitting around campfires, sharing stories and playing games. They looked up as she passed, looked her over, made sure she was fine, then smiled and waved in greeting. She waved back, smiled reassuringly. It was an easy thing to do nowadays; it was part of her role as Inquisitor and she did not let that mask fall until Nariel had left her alone in the tent she had been given for the night. Not until then did she drop down onto the mattress with a grunt, careful not to lie down on her back or her left side, and glared at the Anchor on her hand.

     “This”, she muttered, “is your fault.”

     The Anchor, of course, did not answer.

* * *

She was stiff when she woke up the next morning, but a night’s sleep had rejuvenated her, at least a little bit. And she was certain she was not as stiff as she would have been if she had refused to move from Nariel’s tent the night before. The healer, in question, appeared not much later and seemed pleased to see that she was awake and, most likely, looked like she had slept through the night. Nariel checked the wounds and made a comment on them all healing nicely.

     “None of them was that deep”, she said as Lea dressed once again, “and none’s infected. Your back’s bruised and will most likely be what you feel for the longest, but as long as you do not strain yourself the wounds should all be fully healed in two weeks’ time.”

     “Thank you”, Lea said with a small smile. Nariel smiled back, then left for the day.

     Lea met with Keeper Hawen not much later, asking if it would be possible for her to stay another two days. She was reluctant to go too far from where she had last seen Solas – and riding for a long period of time did not seem ideal right about now. Hawen grumpily agreed. After that, she spent the day helping out with easy tasks around the camp, and as night fell she joined the Dalish at their campfires. She listened to their stories of the gods and gave herself a pat on the back for not arguing with some of their stories of Fen’Harel and his betrayal. Even though Solas had never told her exactly what he had done for this persona of his to become a hated figure in the elven pantheon, she could not imagine him doing all the horrible things the Dalish claimed he had.

     “Do you have any stories, Inquisitor?” a teenager suddenly asked. Lea blinked in surprise.

     “Stories?”

     “They don’t have to be about your adventures”, another added. “We’ve heard plenty of those.”

     “So, what you’re looking for are fairy tales – or tales of what I might believe in?” Lea asked. The two teenagers nodded – and the rest of the clan members around the fire had all fallen silent, listening as well. Lea pursed her lips, then put down her empty food bowl on the ground.

     “Alright”, she said, “let me tell you a story of a man. A man that many have met, but few know they have met, because that’s who he is. He is a man with a face like every other, with a wide smile and kind wave, but once you get close, you see that he is not quite who he first seems to be.”

     “How?” the first teenager asked.

     “His eyes”, Lea replied. “You see, his eyes betray one of his great secrets. That he’ll live forever, see everything – the good and the bad – and be apart from it all. His eyes are heavy with all of this. With, above all, loneliness.”

     She paused. The crowd around her stayed silent.

     “There is a man”, she said, “called the Doctor. He lives on a cloud in the sky, in a house that is smaller on the outside than it is on the inside. Outside, it is no bigger than a tent. Inside… inside it is infinite. And with this house – the TARDIS – he can travel anywhere. To other worlds, to other times. He knows history like no other, because he has seen it all – sometimes caused certain things to happen, even. But unless you got invited to travel with him, you would never know this. Because if someone said they had seen an event that happened thousands of years ago with their very own eyes, would you believe it, or would you ask for proof?”

     She paused again, her eyes drifting to something moving on the other side of the stream. A dark shape, large and walking on four feet. She did not know how the Dalish watchmen had not seen him; he was obvious to spot to her. But no alarm sounded, and she turned back towards her audience, keeping the attention away from him.

     “One day”, she said, “you’ll meet the Doctor. And it will be the best day of your life – because he will be able to show you all of these things. History like you’ve never heard it told – and worlds far beyond the distant stars. He’ll be brilliant – and, most likely, you’ll also find him a little bit mad. But you’ll soon find – and this is important – that he needs you. He needs you like he has never needed anyone before. The trick is…”

     She hesitated, her eyes going to that shape again.

     “The trick is”, she said, swallowing, “to never forget. Once your adventure starts, once you’re caught up in the madness and wonder that is the Doctor, you’ll be tempted to forget what most likely drew you to him in the first place.”

     “What?” the teenager who had asked for the story prompted. “What is that?”

     “That you don’t know him. You might think you do, might think you’re seeing the whole picture, but you don’t. You only see one facet, one tiny fragment of him. The rest is hidden away – unless you try to solve the mystery. Unless you try to uncover all of him. Where he’s from. What made him leave that place – and what makes him stay away from it. And what his name is. The Doctor – that is a title, not a name. Something to cover up past hurts. A shield to hide a true nature behind. But, also remember this; once you find out the truth, the whole truth, there is no going back. And you might not like what you are now unable to forget.”

     She fell silent. One of the teenagers frowned.

     “So I’d both want to know and not to know?” he asked.

     “Knowledge”, Lea said, “is both vital and, sometimes, dangerous. In this case, it might be both.”

     A glance at the other side of the stream told her that the large black wolf was gone once more. As the evening continued with more tales, then songs, Lea found herself listening intently for some guard to announce that Solas was there. He knew she was here by now, but there was always the possibility that he was, once again, unable to simply change back. That he needed his body to do it on its own accord.

     In a way, she was glad he was not there. Her own story – her own retelling of some lines from _Doctor Who_ – had somehow struck a chord in her. Especially that line about the trick. The one she had changed midsentence.

_The trick is, don’t fall in love._

As she headed off to her tent to get another night’s sleep in the Dalish camp, Lea was beginning to wonder if that was a trick she had failed to perform when it came to the elven mage.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“What happens to spirits when they die?” she asked softly. He did not answer at once – and she had not expected him to._   
>  _“Its energy returns to the Fade”, he eventually said, “and, if the idea giving the spirit form is strong, it may someday rise again.”_   
>  _“So your friend”, Lea said, turning to look at him again, “it might come back one day?”_   
>  _Solas turned his head towards her and opened his eyes._   
>  _“No. Not really. Something similar may reform one day, but it will most likely have a different personality. And it will not remember me.”_

She slept little that night and spent the next day like she had the first – by helping out with simple tasks around the camp. But she did not socialize – nor did she join the storytelling around the fire the next evening. Her mind was busy trying to wrap itself around these feelings. Was it love? It was not like what she felt for Cullen, but it was also not what she felt for Dorian, whom she knew she loved as a close friend. With Cullen, she felt safe. She felt protected, cared for, seen and loved. Cullen was a Disney Prince – a knight in shining armour – with troubles of his own but with the gentlest heart, the most understanding mind. He was clever as well; she was not sure how the Inquisition would have survived the skirmishes they had faced without his battle plans. Lea had no doubt whatsoever that she and Cullen would be able to achieve that happily ever after ending, should they both survive this war against Corypheus.

     Solas… Solas was different. Like the Doctor, he was a mystery. There were parts of him that she did not know about – parts that he kept hidden because, either, he feared what people would think if they knew, or because he feared what he would turn into if he let himself become that part of himself. He was stubborn to a fault at times and rarely admitted that he had been wrong. In fact, she had trouble remembering any time when he had admitted that he was wrong about a discussion topic other than when they had spoken in the Fade prior to him leaving Skyhold. When he had admitted that, perhaps, he had been wrong about humans. And there was a wildness to him – a dangerous side – that she had only been allowed to see glimpses of.

     Lea sometimes wondered what would have happened had he not approached her that night as they fled Haven – or if she had not admitted that she had always pictured elves as different. More like him. She would most likely have visited him in the rotunda still – or at least visited Dorian in the library – but she was not sure if their relationship would have gone beyond professional to friendship. She doubted he would have given her books on elven history to study, or admitted the truth about his past – and she was not certain she would have chased after him out here.

     And if she had not, what would have happened when he found out his spirit friend had turned into a demon? Would he have succeeded in freeing it on his own? Or would he have been defeated?

     In the tent she had been given while at the Dalish camp, Lea turned over with an exasperated sigh, then grimaced and turned again. Lying on her right side was, really, the only option she had in order not to be in pain – but lying on one side only meant that side was stiffer than her injured one once she woke in the morning. At least Nariel had seemed pleased with her healing progress – even noted that she seemed to heal faster than expected. Perhaps it was the Anchor trying to make up for getting her this beaten up in the first place. At times Lea was certain the thing had a consciousness of its own.

     Eventually, she got up and walked out of the tent. The sky in the east was brightening – dawn would come soon – but the majority of the camp still slept. The only one she found awake was Ithiren; he was seated by one of the wagons, monitoring the grazing _halla_. He looked up as she approached and smiled in greeting.

     “You are up early, Inquisitor”, he said as she came to stand beside him.

     “As are you”, she replied. “Have you slept at all?”

     “A few hours”, Ithiren answered. “Athon woke me not long ago. Said the _halla_ had been restless, the way they are if there are wolves nearby. I’m a better shot; if the guards cannot take down the wolves, then I would have a better chance than Athon.”

     “Wolves?”

     “There are packs roaming the plains, but they tend to stay away from us. They know we – and the _halla_ – fight back, and thus they go for lesser prey. It might be a lone one; one who is trying to find its own pack. They tend to become desperate.”

     Lea’s eyes drifted to where Solas had been two nights before, on the other side of the stream. Had he lingered in the area, disturbed the _halla_? She pursed her lips thoughtfully.

     “Maybe I can track it down”, she said. Ithiren snorted.

     “Nariel won’t let you up on a horse unless she’s satisfied you won’t reopen your wounds.”

     “You don’t need a horse to track.”

     “Then Nariel won’t let you go because, if you’re attacked, you’d definitely reopen your wounds.”

     “Well, Nariel’s asleep, isn’t she?” Lea said with a small smile. Ithiren gave her a deadpan stare, then shook his head and laughed.

     “I thought you said the world was what would keep you from healing”, he said. She laughed slightly as well.

     “Have you seen any tracks?” she then asked.

     “Not me, no”, Ithiren replied, “but the _halla_ avoid the east side of camp.”

     “So, if there was a wolf, it most likely passed by in that direction.”

     Ithiren nodded and she turned, heading off towards the east side of the camp. She was not surprised to find paw prints in the sand near the shore, moving in a southern direction. There were old ruins that way, she remembered; an old elven burial site.

     It was as good a place as any to look for Solas – if he refused to come here, to the Dalish camp, to find her.

     She headed back to Ithiren, told him she had found some tracks and would be heading out to inspect them. If all went well, she should be back before nightfall. She was fairly certain her wounds would not reopen by her getting on a horse, which would let her travel a bit faster. Walking to the burial grounds would, if she had calculated the distance correctly, take her at least an hour. If she got on a horse, she could shorten that time – and it would be easier for her to move to other places further away if it turned out that Solas was not there, but somewhere else. Ithiren left his position briefly to help her pack a sack of supplies for the day – and he insisted she also bring some supplies for cleaning and bandaging wounds, should she need to redo that. He also helped her put on the pieces of armour she was too stiff to handle herself, though he constantly kept an eye on the _halla_ , forcing her to turn so that he could always face in that direction. She left Solas’ stallion at the camp as she rode off while the sun rose above the horizon and the rest of the camp begun to stir.

     Hopefully she would have made it far enough before Nariel started asking questions.

     The grove where the burial site was located soon came into view. As she neared it, she checked again for paw prints – and found some just off the path that led into the ruins. They could not be more than a few hours old, but she also noted that there was something odd about them. They were the markings of an injured animal; one who was unable to walk on four legs. Her heart begun to beat hard in her chest as she jumped down from her horse and led it into the ruins themselves, her eyes going to the many statues of wolves guarding the place – and then the one wolf that was not made out of grey stone, but black fur.

     His six eyes were closed and he was breathing in a way that made her think he was asleep. She was not sure, though; her father’s dog sometimes looked like he was sleeping, but once you walked closer his eyes would snap open and it would turn out he had been awake all along. Now, after tying her horse to one of the trees that had sprouted among the graves, she cautiously walked closer to the sleeping wolf, hoping he would not wake up and attack on instinct. He did not stir as she moved. A few feet away from him, she was able to see the dark smears of blood on his right front leg and paw. It blended with the coat, making it impossible to see just where the wound was or how big it might be, but the gleam of blood was all around the leg. Had he been in a fight? Or injured himself some other way?

     Slowly she moved closer, sitting down next to where his head rested on his paws. His nostrils flared briefly. Did he smell her? Did he recognize her scent, knew she was not a threat? Or did he just smell that someone was there, that he might have to fight upon waking?

     She swallowed nervously, then started to hum the song she had been humming before they went into her Fade-version of Rivendell. His ears moved and she continued humming. When the wolf let out a deep sigh, she opened her mouth to sing.

     “When the cold of winter comes, starless night will cover day. In the veiling of the sun, we will walk in bitter rain. But in dreams I can hear your name, and in dreams we will meet again.”

     The wolf moved its head slightly, giving her a better look at the blood on his front paw. She still could not make out where the wound was and she leaned forward to get a better look. She touched one hand to the side of the wolf’s face, trying to assure him that it was her as she continued to sing the same song, while her other hand cautiously took hold of the injured leg, moving the fur aside to look for the wound.

     “When the seas and mountains fall and we come to end of days, in the dark I hear a call. Calling me there, I will go there and back again.”

     “You”, Solas murmured, “have the most beautiful voice.”

     Her eyes snapped from the leg to his face – and she found that he was no longer a wolf, but the elven man she had known for months now. When she looked at the leg again, she saw that it had turned into an arm – and there was was a wound running the length from his elbow to about two inches from his wrist, as if from a sharp claw. It smelled. And he was burning hot, his eyes glazed with fever.

     Infection.

     “Bloody hell”, she muttered and pulled off the bag Ithiren had helped her pack, yanking the bottle of alcohol from it – which the _halla_ shepherd had intended for her to use in case one of her wounds was reopened and needed cleaning.

     “It’s not… _fenhedis_!” Solas hissed, his back arching as she poured the alcohol over the wound. She decided not to reply with anything but another shot of alcohol poured over the wound – making him curse and shout again. Pursing her lips, she inspected the wound once more. It smelled less bad – but then alcohol had a habit of covering up bad smells, so she could not be sure. She did, however, know that Solas was a fast healer. What did not make sense was that he had let the wound get dirty and infected in the first place. That was out of character for him – but, in his current state, she doubted she would get a clear answer from him. She touched his forehead face with her hand and he turned his head to look at her. He was still running a fever, she was certain. Yes, he was naturally warm when changing shape from wolf to elf, but this was a clammy sort of heat.

     “How fast can you heal?” she asked, moving her hand down to his cheek. Solas leant into her touch with a sigh, closing his eyes once more.

     “A few hours… stay… please…”

     “You think I’d up and leave you, wolf boy?” Lea said with a smile. Solas looked up at her again, a thin smile grazing his lips as well.

     “No.”

     After using some of the bandages Ithiren had sent with her, she briefly left him to get the blanket she had tied to the back of her horse’s saddle, way back when they left to find his spirit friend. While there, she glimpsed a faint pulsing red light in her saddlebag. With a frown she opened it up and found the messenger crystal Dorian had given her.

     “Ah, shit”, she muttered. The last time she had spoken to Dorian had been the morning when she had found Solas – and when they left to track down the spirit, she had put it in the saddle bag to make sure she did not lose it. Had it been four days since she spoke to him? Five? Either way, she was quite certain the pulsing red of the otherwise nondescript crystal meant something like a cell phone flashing with missed calls.

     She brought both the blanket and the crystal with her back to Solas. The elf had fallen asleep again and only mumbled something incoherent when she draped the blanket over him. She then leant back against the old ruined archway next to him and clutched the crystal in her right hand.

     “ _Well, look who’s back from the dead – again!_ ” Dorian’s voice said in her head.

     “ _You make it sound like I do that a lot_ ”, Lea replied, then sighed. “ _I’m sorry, Dorian. Stuff… happened._ ”

     “ _Yes, well, I suspected it had. And that did not calm me down. Nor did it provide me with a good answer to your advisors’ questions, may I add._ ”

     Lea closed her eyes and sighed again.

     “ _What’s happened back home?_ ” she then asked.

     “ _Well, not much_ ”, Dorian replied, “ _other than the fact that we know Corypheus is up to something on the eastern side of Orlais. We’re hoping Hawke’s Warden friend will have more to tell us – we left Skyhold yesterday morning and we will, hopefully, reach Crestwood tonight. And if things continue to go our way, we’ll have found that cave he’s hiding in tomorrow._ ”

     “ _I was worried you would not go there until I was back. Josephine said the Warden wanted to speak with me._ ”

     “ _Well, he’ll have to make do with Blackwall. And Hawke’s with us; he’ll be able to convince the guy to tell us all his secrets, I assume._ ”

     Lea nodded, then realized Dorian could not see that at all.

     “ _Good_ ”, she therefore said instead. Dorian was quiet for so long she thought he had – for a lack of a better phrase – hung up.

     “ _What happened, Lea?_ ” he then said, his voice gentler this time. She hesitated only for a moment before telling him of Solas’ spirit friend, their battle against the pride demon, her causing a barrier stone to explode with her touch, Solas leaving to grieve on his own – she left out the part of him running away from her in wolf form, of course – and then her being patched up in the Dalish camp. In order to explain why she was still not with the elves, she claimed Nariel had told her to test her body by taking a short ride to the burial grounds and that that was how she had found Solas again.

     Again, Dorian was silent for a long time before he spoke. When he did, his voice was laced with concern.

     “ _You do not think he went mad with grief and thus left the wound to get infected, hoping it might kill him as well?_ ”

     Lea swallowed and glanced over at Solas’ sleeping form. The thought had touched her mind, briefly, but she had brushed it away as something her friend would never do. Then again, she had not expected him to incinerate four mages either.

     “ _I don’t know_ ”, she therefore answered. Briefly, it felt as if Dorian was next to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and giving a light squeeze.

     “ _Make sure he heals_ ”, he said. “ _I’ll brief the others of what has happened, but also assure them that the two of you will be able to handle this on your own. Or with the help of the Dalish. Once we know more of what Corypheus is up to and where we need to go next, I’ll let you know. You and Solas will be able to either go to Skyhold and meet us there once we return – or wait for the army to ride out west._ ”

     “ _They’re ready to go?_ ” Lea asked.

     “ _We’re assuming there will be a battle_ ”, Dorian replied. “ _Leliana’s spies have found tracks of the Wardens in western Orlais – as well as signs of Venatori activity. We’re preparing for the worst._ ”

     Lea clutched the crystal a tad bit harder as she listened. She did not have a good feeling about this; in fact she felt certain Corypheus had indeed done something to the Wardens and that she would be forced to lead the Inquisition against what was, by most, seen as Thedas’ most skilled warriors.

     “ _Keep me updated_ ”, she said, “ _and tell the others that we’ll be back soon. Both me and Solas. Make sure Cullen knows I’m alright._ ”

     “ _Even if you’re not?_ ” Dorian asked. She could picture his smirk as he spoke, which made her smile as well.

     “ _Better not worry him more than necessary. If there is a big battle approaching, he needs to focus on that._ ”

     “ _I’ll pass the message on with the raven we’re meant to send once we’ve reached Crestwood_ ”, her friend promised. Then the line went silent.

     Solas slept for another hour and looked visibly better when he woke up. His temperature had gone down and, when Lea checked on the wound, she saw that it had begun to heal nicely. And that the signs of infection had gone away.

     “You’re fussing”, Solas noted dryly when she adjusted the blanket covering him.

     “Well, I do not want you to die on me, right after I’ve saved your life”, Lea muttered. Her friend’s hand shot out beneath the blanket and grabbed her hand, his eyes blazing as she met his gaze.

     “I won’t leave you again.”

     She frowned at the sudden change in subject.

     “What are you talking about?”

     Solas closed his eyes and sighed deeply, but he did not answer her question. She pursed her lips, then let go of his hand, pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them.

     “What happens to spirits when they die?” she asked softly. He did not answer at once – and she had not expected him to.

     “Its energy returns to the Fade”, he eventually said, “and, if the idea giving the spirit form is strong, it may someday rise again.”

     “So your friend”, Lea said, turning to look at him again, “it might come back one day?”

     Solas turned his head towards her and opened his eyes.

     “No. Not really. Something similar may reform one day, but it will most likely have a different personality. And it will not remember me.”

     Lea swallowed, then reached out and took his hand again, squeezing it gently.

     “I’m sorry.”

     His gaze drifted to the now faint outline of the wound on her cheek.

     “I should have stayed with you”, he murmured, “not run off when I did. You were hurt. I knew you were hurt and I…”

     “You were grieving”, she interrupted, “and I get the feeling you’re not that used to company all the time.”

     Solas’ lips twitched upwards slightly and he squeezed her hand.

     “It’s been so long since I could trust someone like I can trust you, _lethallin_. But I’ll work on it.”

     Lea nodded with a smile of her own, then reached over to check his temperature again.

     “Your fever’s going down fast”, she noted. “What would have happened if I hadn’t found you when I had?”

     “I could have fought the infection for quite some time”, Solas replied, “but disinfecting it would have been difficult – and I cannot say if I would have lived through it or not.”

     “Why did it get infected? What happened?”

     Solas’ eyes darkened and he looked away, causing her to frown, concerned and worried.

     “ _Lethallen_ …”

     “Don’t”, Solas snapped and sat up, pulling free from her hand. She stared at him with wide eyes as he stumbled to his feet and started walking, blanket around his shoulders to keep warm.

     “What happened?” she asked, hearing the edge in her own voice as she spoke. Solas stopped, but did not speak. She rose and walked after him. Once she was close, she saw that he was running a finger along the now closed wound, a grim expression on his face.

     “You’re scaring me”, she said. His head snapped up, eyes wide in terror.

     “No…”

     “Solas”, she interrupted, reaching out to take his hands, “listen. Nothing that you’ve done has ever scared me. Not the rebel-god-thing, not the shapeshifting, not the incineration of the mages, nothing. Because I’ve always been able to see a reason behind that – a way of understanding you. But this… you’re acting as if you’ve made a deal with the devil.”

     The terror vanished slightly in his eyes, but he still looked scared. Like he expected her to take off and leave him behind, despite reassuring him that she would not.

     “I understand that you might not be able to give me the full story – and I accept that”, she said, “but something’s clearly bothering you, and I want to help and you’re not letting me. And, damn, I sound whiny right now.”

     Solas let out a short laugh, his eyes brightening slightly once again. That made her smile and she let go of one of his hands to touch his cheek.

     “Just tell me what you can.”

     “I wish I could, _vhenan_ ”, he whispered. There was that word again – the one she did not understand, the one she had not dared to ask any other elf about. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from asking him about it now.

     “Why can’t you tell me?” she asked instead.

     “If I do, this will cease to exist. I would lose you – and by losing you I would also lose myself.”

     Lea frowned at him. Then her heart started to beat hard in her chest as one thought, one idea planted itself in her mind. She took a step closer to him and rested her head against his chest, felt his heart thump against his ribcage at a pace that might have been due to the slight fever he was still running, or something akin to what had made her own pulse rise.

     “You could never lose me”, she murmured. His arms wound around her, causing the blanket to drop from his shoulders.

     “Trust me, _lethallin_ ”, he murmured into her hair, “I could.”

* * *

At the time the sun begun to set, Solas was free of the fever and his wound was nothing but a thin, pale line on his arm. As if it was nothing but an old scar. He still opted to stay in the grove as she rode back to the Dalish camp.

     “It is better that way”, he claimed. Lea still made him promise that he would stay put and only change shape if there was no other way of getting out of trouble. She had no desire of chasing him down again. Instead, she planned on leaving the camp officially the next day, bringing Solas’ horse along and riding in the direction of the Inquisition’s camp. Her friend would meet her once she was out of sight from the Dalish scouts and they would then decide where to go next; back to their old campsite on the edge of the mountains, back to Skyhold, or head west to wait for the army that would soon head that way as well.

     On the way to the camp, she felt the crystal thrum against her chest. Dorian was contacting her.

     “ _Well, that went quicker than expected_ ”, he said. She took hold of the crystal with one hand to be able to speak with him.

     “ _What did?_ ”

     “ _Contacting Hawke’s Warden friend. Stroud. That’s his name. Orlesian, but without a mask_.”

     “ _What did he say?_ ” Lea asked, slowing her horse down to give her more time to talk with Dorian before she reached the camp.

     “ _Corypheus has control of the Wardens in Orlais_ ”, her friend replied. “ _Apparently it has to do with something called the Calling; it’s this thing that happens to the Grey Wardens to let them know they’ll soon be claimed by the Blight. Usually, when a Warden hears it, they make their final round of goodbyes and then go to the Deep Roads. Now, however, every Warden is hearing it and they think the end of the world is coming for them._ ”

     “ _Well, they’re not wrong_ ”, Lea muttered. Dorian laughed bitterly.

     “ _Either way, the Grey Wardens are desperate. Warden-Commander Clarel spoke of a blood magic ritual to prevent future Blights, before all the Wardens died out, and Stroud was chased off for protesting against it. But before he left he found out where they’d be doing the ritual._ ”

     “ _In west Orlais?_ ” Lea guessed.

     “ _Yes_ ”, Dorian agreed. “ _The Western Approach. Dotted with old Tevinter ruins, I hear. Perfect place for performing some blood magic._ ”

     “ _How can all the Grey Wardens be hiding out in one of those ruins Leliana’s spies have been investigating? Most of them are half-buried in the sand._ ”

     “ _Stroud seemed to think that most of the Wardens are somewhere else, in a bigger fortress. There are those as well. His advice was to investigate why some of them have decided to make these ruins their home and, if possible, figure out through them where the other Wardens are. He suspected they’d be in the area, though._ ”

     “ _Then we’ll send the army that way_ ”, Lea said, “ _but a smaller scouting party should ride ahead, aim for the ruins._ ”

     “ _I’ll gladly accept the invitation to that._ ”

     Lea shook her head at the comment and then said her goodbyes to her friend. She was nearing the Dalish camp and the setting sun was making everything look like it was on fire. That was, however, nothing compared to the fire in Nariel’s eyes when the healer spotted her.

     “I do not appreciate this kind of experimentation”, she snapped as Lea got down from the horse. “Your wounds are definitely not ready for this sort of trek.”

     “I feel fine, Nariel”, Lea assured her. It was the truth. The stiffness that had been there in the morning was gone by now and there was hardly any pain. And she had checked her bandages earlier, just to make sure she had not ripped open a wound and was bleeding through the bindings. But there was nothing.

     The healer, of course, did not accept this explanation and ordered Lea into her tent. Once the bandages had been removed, however, she fell silent.

     “How did you heal this fast?” she asked.

     “I assume it’s the Anchor…”

     “Yes, you’ve said that”, Nariel interrupted, “but this is faster. Much faster. There’s hardly a sign of injury left.”

     Lea frowned, then looked down at the wound Nariel was currently inspecting. It had been the biggest of them, located on the side of her left thigh – but now there was nothing. Just a faint, thin, white line, like an old scar.

     Like the one on Solas’ arm.

     _That bastard healed me_ , Lea thought. When had he managed that? He had been feverish throughout the day and had definitely not been in any state to do any magic – other than what his body did to heal itself.

     “Incredible”, Nariel murmured.

     “I’m sure it’s just the Anchor acting up”, Lea said and pulled on her clothes again. The healer did not look convinced, but she did not question things further. Instead she ushered Lea out of her tent and went to speak with Hawen. The Keeper showed up a bit later and announced that she was welcome to stay another night, but that she must then be off. As expected.

     In order not to test Hawen’s patience, Lea chose to skip out on the campfire gathering that evening as well, in order to get an early evening and an early morning. The only one who was awake when she went to prepare the horses was Ithiren, once again seated by the _halla_. After a while another shepherd took his place and he came over to help her. They chatted amicably, with Ithiren asking questions about her journey the day before and her saying that the tracks she had followed led towards the Arbor Wilds. He seemed satisfied with this answer and did not question her story further.

     No one but Ithiren was there to wish her a safe journey. Not that Ithiren said those words either. Instead he spoke a phrase to her in elven that she tried and failed to translate.

     “ _Ar-melana dirthavaren. Revas vir-anaris_ _._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have never rewritten a chapter as much as I have rewritten this. Solas and Lea are driving me insane!


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“What’s troubling you?”_   
>  _His steps were soft against the carpet covered floor. Once he stood next to her, she saw the tension in his jaw as he eyed the dresses._   
>  _“It seems Gaspard has showered you with gifts already”, he said._   
>  _“Does he think I’m a doll to dress up?” she asked, sighing. “These dresses aren’t even Orlesian.”_   
>  _“No”, Solas agreed, “they’re not. I’m not sure where they originate from.”_

As they had previously decided, Solas was waiting for her out of sight from the scouts. Unlike when she had found him the day before, he looked like himself again. There were no signs of sickness, injuries, or thoughts that made him depressed. That, of course, did not mean those things were not there. Especially the last of those things. During these months in Thedas, Lea had learned just how well Solas could hide things from people.

     He just usually did not hide them from her.

     Solas swung up onto the back of his horse and turned to face her, a small smile on his lips.

     “Where to, then?” he asked. Lea almost replied that she wanted them to head back to the mountains, to their old camp. It was what she desperately wanted. Being there had brought her peace, in the sense that there had been nothing she had to do besides being herself. But she had a duty – they both had – to the Inquisition. And the Inquisition was on the move.

     “The army’s leaving Skyhold today, most likely”, she said. She summarized what Dorian had told her the night before and Solas’ smile vanished. When he did not speak, she continued talking herself – talking of how the army would most likely use the Imperial Highway to move through Orlais and how they might find it easier to catch them by riding north, to one of the cities along the route. Halamshiral lay too far east from their current position, so she instead suggested going to either Lydes or Verchiel. The former of these cities had been ruled by Grand Duchess Florianne before her treachery and was currently without a ruler, and Empress Celene had asked for the Inquisition’s help in choosing a new Duke or Duchess for the city. The latter city – Verchiel – was ruled by Grand Duke Gaspard.

     “Going to Lydes will mean facing nobles vying for the position as Duke or Duchess of Lydes”, Lea said, “while going to Verchiel means meeting with Gaspard, attending his court. I’m not sure which is the better option, truly. Perhaps we should send…”

     “Lea.”

     She closed her mouth at the sound of Solas’ voice, blushing upon realizing just how much she had just been, well, rambling.

     “I understand”, he said, causing her to look up at him. The corners of his lips tugged upwards in a small, sad smile.

     “The Inquisition needs us”, he said. “You, in particular. But staying out here has been a welcome reprieve from it all.”

     He turned forward, looking in the direction they had let their horses pick. North, as if the animals knew where they needed to be going.

     “I agree that we should aim for the Imperial Highway”, he said. “Depending on when the army leaves Skyhold – today or tomorrow, and at what time – it will still take time before they reach the area you mentioned. Most will be on foot and they will have supply carts with them that will slow them down. I’d think it will be a week, perhaps more, before they arrive. It is possible that our friends riding from Crestwood to catch up will reach them before we do.”

     He sounded so calm, so reasonable. Nothing like the rambling she had just done.

     “We have the choice of either riding hard north and resting in a city, or taking it easy and reaching it at about the same time as the army”, Solas continued and turned to look at her again. The sudden intensity of his gaze made her heart do a little tap dance. Her mind instantly berated it for doing so; Solas was the same man as before, she was the same woman, she was dating Cullen and there was no bloody way she would act like not seeing him for a few days meant she could develop a crush on one of her closest friends. To keep herself sane, she looked away and pursed her lips in thought, waging the two options. Riding hard for one of the cities would risk their horses, but it would also mean finding safety sooner. The Exalted Plains was still a battlefield and riddled with demons who spent their time possessing corpses. Taking it slower would mean facing those things on a day to day basis, most likely, and despite the rapid healing of her recent injuries – and Solas’ – Lea was not keen on testing or straining those abilities before they were truly needed. However, taking it slow would also mean getting to spend more time alone – just the two of them – without a bunch of nobles vying for her attention.

     Her heart cheered for the second alternative.

     “We’ll head for Verchiel”, she said out loud. “Gaspard has most likely been notified of the Inquisition being on the move and will not be too unaccommodating for a few days.”

     An unknown emotion flickered in Solas’ eyes, before he nodded and pressed his legs against the sides of his horse. Lea let him take the lead as they started to gallop north. Watching her friend from behind, she knew; she knew that he was fighting the same battle between heart and mind as she just had, and him riding ahead like this was a sign of his hurt. She could not help but wonder what might have happened had she decided to follow her heart’s desire. Would he have argued that it was an unwise choice because his mind wanted him to? Or would he have been relieved, let the stoic expression slip once more?

     It did not matter; the choice had been made. If they kept up a good pace they should reach Verchiel in three days – if she had managed to calculate their current position correctly. Hopefully those days would be enough to settle her heart.

* * *

Verchiel looked both exactly like Halamshiral – and the exact opposite of it. The city itself was very much the same; the Orlesians certainly had no need for variation when it came to building houses. Most were brick houses, some painted, some left the way they were. The closer to the centre of the city they got, the more houses they saw where the façade had been smoothed out to make it look like it was built out of one huge piece of stone. Many such houses were painted in pale blue or white – and many also had golden ornaments, ivy climbing the walls, and red banners flying in the wind. There were statues and fountains in every square, merchants shouting out their wares from their stalls along the roads, and everywhere people were wearing masks. Only the poorest did not – and many of those instead hid part of their face behind rough scarves or hoods.

     But no matter who they were, they all still looked at Lea and Solas with wide eyes as they rode towards the centre of the city, where the Grand Duke’s palace was located.

     “I don’t have a stain on my face, do I?” Lea muttered as another group of Orlesians pointed and gasped at the sight of them.

     “No”, Solas replied, his lips twitching slightly. It was the kind of answers she had received from him to most of her questions these past few days. Simple, short, and mostly void of emotions – other than a faint glimmer in his eyes or a hint of a smile or frown. She hated this sudden distance between them, but she had no idea how to mend it without causing bigger troubles to arise. Thus she simply let out a breath and focused forward again. They were nearing the gates leading to the palace’s courtyard and she saw the guards there straightening up and moving to open them. Apparently they had already been notified of their arrival and the gates swung open just before Solas and Lea reached them, then closed once they were through.

     “Inquisitor Crowley!”

     Gaspard was standing at the top of the stairs, dressed in the same sort of clothes he had worn in Halamshiral. His mask made it impossible to tell his facial expression – but Lea had a feeling he was smiling a pleased smile.

     “Grand Duke”, she greeted, bowing her head in his direction.

     “I was not aware you’d be riding this far ahead of your army”, Gaspard said as he walked towards them. Lea jumped down from her horse before she answered.

     “I had some business to attend to in the Exalted Plains and was already there when the army rode out. It was easier for us to ride directly here and wait for them to catch up with us, instead of doubling back.”

     “I see”, Gaspard said. “I’m surprised to see you only travel with your elven servant.”

     “And I’m sure you know already, Grand Duke, that Solas is not some servant of the Inquisition”, Lea replied. Again it looked like Gaspard smiled. With the mask on he looked like a smug cat.

     “Indeed. A mage and friend of the Inquisitor, if my information is correct – and up to date.”

     Lea tensed slightly. Up to date? Was Gaspard insinuating that there was more going on between her and Solas than them being close friends?

     “Either way”, the Grand Duke said, waving at a stable boy who had been waiting nearby, “I received word from your Commander Cullen yesterday. They are making good pace along the Imperial Highway and expect to reach Verchiel in three days. By then my own Chevaliers will be ready as well and will join you on your journey west. They will bring siege weapons, ladders and battering rams with them.”

     “Am I correct in assuming you won’t be joining us?” Lea asked as they started to walk up the stairs to the palace. She felt more than heard Solas falling into step behind her.

     “I, sadly, will not”, Gaspard agreed. “My presence is required at court in Val Royeaux.”

     The doors of the palace opened and they entered a grand hallway, adorned – as always in Orlais – with gold, silk and marble. Opulence at its finest.

     “I’d be honoured if you would join me at dinner tonight”, Gaspard said. “For now, rest and freshen up. Warm water can be brought up to your rooms if you wish.”

     He waved at a servant before taking his leave. The servant bowed deeply for both Lea and Solas, then led the way up a set of stairs to the right. Their rooms were at the very end of a long corridor. Solas opted for the door on the left, leaving Lea to walk in through the door straight ahead.

     The room was spacious with a balcony overlooking Verchiel – and the Imperial Highway. It would be easy to tell if the army was nearing with this view. There was a double bed with a dark blue canopy, a sturdy oak desk and a couch in front of a lit fireplace. A brass bathtub with clawed feet stood in a corner of the room and there was an open wardrobe with several dresses near it. Lea had the distinct feeling that the dresses had already been fitted to suit her – and upon closer inspection she noted that they were not of the usual Orlesian fashion. These were corseted dresses with mesh, low backs and deep sweetheart necklines. Lea shivered. She had been told that Gaspard had been one of the many men eyeing her in Halamshiral – and these dresses were a clear sign that he wanted her to dress up in the same manner while at his court.

     _Three days_ , she thought and moved to close the wardrobe. _I can do this for three days._

     The sound of a door opening made her spin around and see Solas entering the room. It took her a moment to realize that he had not come through the door from the corridor, but through one that had been hidden behind a tapestry.

     “Ah”, he said, stopping in the doorway. Apparently he had not expected the door to lead to her room.

     “I assumed it was one of the many doors used by servants”, he said, confirming her suspicion. “I apologize for the intrusion.”

     “Don’t worry about it”, Lea replied, then turned back towards the full wardrobe.

     “What’s troubling you?”

     His steps were soft against the carpet covered floor. Once he stood next to her, she saw the tension in his jaw as he eyed the dresses.

     “It seems Gaspard has showered you with gifts already”, he said.

     “Does he think I’m a doll to dress up?” she asked, sighing. “These dresses aren’t even Orlesian.”

     “No”, Solas agreed, “they’re not. I’m not sure where they originate from.”

     He ran a finger along the corset of a dark purple dress with silver embellishments. It had black mesh covering the arms and dropped down in a v-shaped back.

     “This would suit you”, he murmured. Then, as if he suddenly realized he had spoken aloud, his cheeks turned a faint shade of pink.

     “You think?” Lea still asked. He turned to face her, the blush slowly leaving his face.

     “Remember that you’re not obligated to wear them, even if we’re in Gaspard’s palace”, he said. She could see him retreating behind his mask again and, as he started to turn, she reached out, taking his hand. He inhaled sharply and she realized it was the first touch they had shared since she had left him at the burial grounds. During their journey across the Exalted Plains to Verchiel they had not slept as close to one another as they had before, in their mountain camp, and sharing touches was close to impossible when you were seated on different horses throughout the day. Now his gaze went from their joined hands up her arm to her face, warm and intense, yet seemingly also reflecting an ongoing battle within him.

     “If I wear any of these”, she said, trying to ignore the way her heart was now beating a staccato in her chest, “can you promise to send a small fireball at Gaspard if he does anything that’s not appropriate?”

     Solas’ lips twitched, then stayed up in a smile. His eyes burned as he took a step towards her, his free hand coming up to cup her cheek.

     “That”, he said, his voice low, “would be my pleasure, _lethallin_.”

     He pressed a kiss to her forehead, lingering just like he had after they had fought the demon his friend had turned into. Then he ripped free and stalked back to the door leading into his room. Lea remained in place, trying to calm her heart again, but for some reason it refused to settle. As if it had interpreted everything Solas had just said and done in a way that was not quite ideal for someone who was in a relationship with someone else. But unlike when they had started their journey towards Verchiel, her mind’s arguments were lost in the swell of emotions roiling through her body. She decided to distract herself by asking a servant to bring up warm water for a bath, then spend some time going over ideas and plans for whatever may come. Of course, she did not have all the information at the moment – she would grill Cullen for all the details when the army arrived, but she could not be idle for three days. Planning for possible battles and sieges… well, it was not the most amusing way to spend your time, but it kept her mind and heart from going to war with one another.

     When it became time to get ready for dinner, she called for a servant once more to put on the purple and silver gown. The servant also pulled her hair back in a high ponytail and added a few silver clips among the strands. By the time she was finally finished dinner had already been served. She walked as fast as she could in her heels through the corridors, but paused by the stairs leading down into the dining hall, listening to the murmur of voices for a few seconds before walking out into the light and attempting to slowly descend the stairs. The voices died down almost instantly as those gathered turned towards her, all of them wearing masks except for one.

     Solas.

     Her friend was also dressed in new clothes; brown trousers, a white, billowing shirt and a long black vest. All pieces were embroidered with silver threads, matching the way his eyes now glowed like molten silver in the faint light. Lea forced herself to look away from him and instead turn towards Gaspard, seated at the head of the table. The Grand Duke rose and walked over to the stairs, offering her his arm. Now he was most definitely smiling smugly.

     “Inquisitor”, he said, “how wonderful of you to join us this evening.”

     She simply smiled back and allowed him to lead her to the table, placing her to his right, next to Solas. Her friend’s hand brushed against hers as she sat down, instantly both calming her and making her heart jump. But she did not dare look in his direction. If his gaze was still as intense as it had been when she walked down the stairs, she feared she would be unable to look away again.

     _Jesus Christ, woman, your boyfriend’s on his way here, yet you’re hankering after your best friend!_ her mind screamed at her. Not that her heart was listening at the moment – in fact she feared her heart had put her mind on mute.

     Dinner still passed without incident. Gaspard was on his best behaviour, as was the nobles and courtiers attending. Lea and Solas hardly had time to look in each other’s direction as they were caught up in conversations everywhere else around the table. The food was as expensive and luxurious as expected from food served in the home of the Grand Duke of Orlais, and they were served a new glass of wine to every course. Lea made sure to not drink too much out of each glass she was given; it would not do to have a loose tongue in this company.

     “My lady”, Gaspard said as the last dish was cleared off the table, “it would be my honour to escort you back to your quarters.”

     And there it was; a polite, honourable request, one that was difficult to turn down without sounding rude. Solas’ hand brushed against hers in reassurance once more, giving her the confidence to smile at Gaspard’s golden mask.

     “That would be very kind of you, Grand Duke.”

     The man behind the mask once again looked very smug as he rose and offered her his arm. She kept her smile on her face as she accepted the arm and allowed him to lead her towards the stairs. And, as before, she did not need to turn to know that Solas followed them.

     “I hear you and Commander Rutherford are quite close”, Gaspard said after they had ascended the stairs.

     “Yes, we are”, Lea replied. No need to hide that anymore if his spies had already figured that out.

     “I’m surprised you left with your mage friend, then.”

     “Are you insinuating something, Grand Duke?” she asked and stopped, turning to face him. She wished she knew how he looked behind that mask so that she could picture his actual expression.

     “Of course not, Inquisitor”, he said. “I’m simply… curious.”

     Lea raised an eyebrow at him, then turned and continued through the corridor, forcing him to follow. Once they reached her door, Gaspard did not attempt anything. Instead he simply wished her goodnight, bowed and left the way they had come. Lea watched him leave, surprised that Solas did not come walking towards her. Had he been held back? Or was he hidden somewhere to keep Gaspard from noticing him?

     She shook her head at herself. Solas was not her protector; she could handle herself. It was simply… nice to have someone watch over her when it came to Gaspard. She let out a sigh, then pushed the door open and entered her room, locking the door behind her.

     “You handled that well.”

     “Jesus Christ, Solas!” she exclaimed, spinning around. The elf was standing by her desk, a thin smile on his lips when he realized he had surprised her.

     “How did you get here before me?” she asked.

     “Palaces like these always have corridors for servants”, he replied. “Attacking the Grand Duke in a corridor would not suffice. Easier to do it from a hidden alcove.”

     Lea rolled her eyes at him, which only made his smile widen. Then it slowly faded away and his gaze became as intense as it had been when she arrived at dinner. He pushed away from the desk and walked towards her, his steps graceful yet full of purpose. Lea felt her mouth go dry and her heart began to beat a frantic tempo in her chest.

     “You look beautiful”, Solas said, his fingers brushing against hers. A silent question, which she replied to by taking his hand.

     “It’s the dress”, she said. He shook his head.

     “No. It’s you.”

     He took one step closer, his breath brushing against her face as she turned it up to meet his gaze. Molten silver with hints of blue. Those eyes had seen more than she could ever dream of, people and civilizations long lost to time, yet now they were looking at her as if none of that mattered. As if, if he could choose only one thing to look upon for the rest of his life, it would be her.

     “Dance with me?” he softly asked.

     “I… there’s no music”, she managed to reply. The corners of his lips twitched slightly.

     “Do we need music to dance?”

     She hesitated, then shook her head slightly. Solas changed his hold on her hand, then placed his other one on her back. She raised her free hand and placed it on his shoulder, then let him lead her through the movements of a graceful waltz. His eyes never left her face.

     “May I ask you something, _lethallin_?” he said after a while.

     “What?”

     “Are you happy here?”

     “In Verchiel?” she asked. Solas’ lips quirked.

     “In Thedas”, he corrected. “Compared to what I saw of you in the Fade – the memory you showed me – are you happy?”

     She was quiet for a long time before she replied.

     “I am. In a way. It’s different from how I would define happiness back on Earth. There I was happy as long as I could find some time to sit and read or spend time outdoors. Here, I’m happy because I can help. Because I can do something instead of just whine about it. and because I’ve found friends that I trust and love here.”

     She paused, feeling a small frown appear on her forehead.

     “You’re quite the newcomer yourself”, she said. “Are you happy here, Solas? In this time?”

     He chuckled.

     “The simple answer would be yes”, he said. “Yes, I’m happy here.”

     There was a flash of some unreadable emotion in his eyes, causing him to look away. She moved her hand from his shoulder to his cheek, making him turn back to her again.

     “I wish you would tell me”, she said, her voice not much higher than a whisper. “I wish you would let me help.”

     Solas let out a soft breath, then dropped his head so his forehead rested against hers. She closed her eyes, drinking in the smell of him, while her hand dropped to his chest. His heart beat against her palm, a steady but rapid rhythm.

     “We are both outsiders”, he murmured. “People who belong in a different time or place, but have come to live here instead. But you… you are unlike anyone from any time, any place.”

     “I’m not”, she whispered. He moved back and she opened her eyes, met his gaze.

     “You are”, he said, the hand that had been on her back during their dance coming up to her cheek. “You are a wonder. You are… everything.”

     She felt herself smile slightly.

     “Sweet talker.”

     A hint of a blush appeared on his cheeks and he cleared his throat, taking a step back.

     “I…”

     She did not let him finish. Instead she used the hand that had been resting on his chest to yank him back to her, then pressed her lips to his. He tensed and she realized she might have misinterpreted his feelings, causing her to break the kiss and move to step back. The instant she did his hands gripped her waist, pulling her back to him as he kissed her again, harder, hungrier. His tongue ran along the seam between her lips, making her open her mouth beneath him and, as she did, he let out a low growl. A growl that made her legs turn to boiled spaghetti. He pulled back and she blinked up at him, watching as his lips curved up in a smirk before he dove back in for another kiss, one hand moving from her hip to instead cradle her face.

     Then he pulled back, his breathing heavy.

     “We shouldn’t”, he rasped. “It… isn’t right.”

     She knew it. Cullen was on his way to Verchiel, the last time she had seen him she had professed her love for him, and here she was making out with the man who had, at the time, been her close friend but had during the last few days started to become much more than that.

     “What have we gotten ourselves into, Solas?” she sighed, opening her eyes to look at him. He smiled a sad smile.

     “Trouble, I imagine. It seems to hunt us both.”

     Lea let out a slight laugh at that.

     “I guess you’re right.”

     His thumb ran along her cheekbone, his expression suddenly thoughtful. Sad and thoughtful, to be precise. Her smile died and she raised a hand to touch his cheek in turn.

     “What is it?” she asked.

     “This is… difficult”, he admitted and sighed. “I’ve never been a man able to let someone else have the woman I…”

     He paused, a soft blush tinting his cheeks once again.

     “Care about”, he finished, “yet here I am doing exactly that. I know you’re happy with Commander Cullen. I know you love him. And I would never come between you two – and I don’t want you to choose between us.”

     Her heart gave a hard thump that almost felt like the kind that was displayed in cartoons, where the heart basically jumps out of your chest.

     “I would rather you and I remain as we are – friends – than risk ruining things”, he continued, “both between you and the Commander and between the two of us. Though I do admit that is a strange confession to make after what just happened here.”

     His thumb brushed over her lips as he spoke and, for a moment, Lea thought he would go back in for yet another kiss. If he did, she was quite certain she would not be able to stop. Then the moment passed and he dropped his hands to hold both of hers. The Anchor flared, just like it had back at their own camp.

     “I do not want to lose you, _lethallin_ ”, Solas murmured. “I… am terrified.”

     Suddenly she realized that this might have been what he had been referencing back in the ancient burial grounds. That he was afraid to lose her because of his feelings for her – feelings he was afraid would get in the way of their friendship, feelings that might make them uncomfortable around each other, or would force her to end things with Cullen. And just like then, she stepped closer and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head against his chest.

     “You’re not going to lose me. Ever.”

     Solas’ returning embrace was bone crushing.

     “Thank you, _vhenan_ ”, he whispered.

     “What does that word mean?” she asked and pulled back so that she could look him in the eyes. “You’ve called me that a few times, but you haven’t explained what it means yet.”

     His lips quirked up briefly.

     “One day, I will tell you”, he promised. Then he pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, before he stepped back until he stood at a less intimate distance.

     “Just tell me”, he said, “if you ever feel that my feelings for you get in the way of what needs to be done – or if they make you uncomfortable.”

     “So there are feelings?” she asked with a teasing smile. Solas chuckled.

     “I’m certain you already know that.”

     Her heart responded by doing a gymnastics routine in her chest – but outwards she just nodded.

     “I promise”, she said, “but I doubt that will happen.”

     “Just in case”, he said, then bowed his head to her. “Sleep well, _lethallin_.”

* * *

It was surprisingly easy to fall back into their close friendship. Yes, Lea did feel her heart jump most times when they stood a little closer than usual, held hands or hugged, and Solas’ forehead kisses were no quick pecks, but there were no more make out sessions. A part of her regretted that. When they kissed that first night in Verchiel, Solas had tasted good enough to eat. There had been cinnamon from the dessert they had had, a faint whiff of cherry liquor – which was the only alcoholic beverage she had noticed him drinking that night – and then there was the intoxicating taste of him. Wild, ancient magic. It had tingled on her tongue all through the night and had caused the Anchor to flare several more times. Not in a painful way, like it did when there was a rift nearby. It had been more of a searching kind of flare, as if the Anchor reached out for Solas’ magic again.

     But they both stuck to their word – and by lunch the next day it was as if nothing had happened. They discussed and argued over things the way they always had and ventured into the palace’s grand library to look for texts that they might convince Gaspard to send to the Inquisition – or at least take notes from. Lea had no interest in being dependent on the Grand Duke. Especially since rumours had started to flourish among the nobles gathered at the palace – and the merchants she met when heading out in the afternoon to explore Verchiel with Solas – that Gaspard and Lea would soon be married and thus tie the Inquisition to the imperial house.

     “Of course that’s what they want”, Lea muttered as she browsed the fabrics on display. She had thought about buying some and bringing them with her back to Skyhold. There were always people who could use some new clothes.

     And no; she had no plan to die in the upcoming battle. At least that was what she told herself, just to keep her mind from freaking out about what was to come.

     “After what you accomplished in Halamshiral it is expected that Orlais will want some control over the Inquisition”, Solas agreed, scrunching up his nose slightly at the fabrics. “Outing the court as you did made them realize your strength – and their need to control it.”

     “Good thing it’s not going to happen”, she said and straightened up, declining the fabric the merchant was holding out to her but promising to come back the next day to look again. When she turned back to Solas, she saw that his gaze had become distant. She touched his arm briefly.

     “Solas?”

     He blinked.

     “I apologize”, he said, then smiled reassuringly. “As you said; it’s a good thing it won’t happen.”

     Gaspard was out during the days, only returning to the palace with his personal guard shortly before dinner – and unlike the first day, he made no further attempts at wooing her or suggesting that there might be something to pursue. Either Solas had managed to scare him off in some manner or Cullen had been in touch. Though Lea did have trouble imagining Cullen writing a letter that could scare off the Grand Duke of Orlais.

     Maybe Dorian had written it for him.

     Either way, the days in Verchiel passed by without incidents, and three days after they had first ridden into the city, the Inquisition’s army was spotted by the horizon. Lea could see it from her window and quickly alerted Solas, using the hidden passage between their rooms. Both of them quickly readied themselves and left the palace, bidding those they met goodbye. Some insisted they stay longer; the army would camp outside the city and rest until the next day, after all. But neither of them had any interest in that. They belonged with the Inquisition – regardless of how smelly the camp would be compared to what they had experienced in the last few days. Thus they had their horses brought out and trotted along the streets, through the gates of the multiple sections of Verchiel until they reached the final one.

     The army was a dark mass of moving shapes nearing them, the size of it only apparent by the vast cloud of dust that was stirred up due to their movements along the Imperial Highway. Lea’s heart thumped hard in her chest as she watched them come closer and closer to where she and Solas had halted their horses, her mind going to the armies she had only seen in movies like _Lord of the Rings_ and the like. Even as the leader of the Inquisition she had not understood just how big their force was until now – and she doubted these were all the people allied with them. Only the majority.

     It was at least another twenty minutes before they could distinguish individual people within the mass of riders and foot soldiers. And the first one her gaze was drawn to was the man riding at the head of the army, atop a large, chestnut brown stead. The sun glinted off his hair and his armour, but what was most blinding to her was his wide smile.

     “Cullen”, she whispered, then pushed her horse forward.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Inquisitor”, he said, his voice gruff and with an Orlesian accent._   
>  _“Warden Stroud”, she replied. “I’m honoured to make your acquaintance.”_   
>  _“The honour is mine”, he replied. “I suspect your mage friend forwarded what I told them in Crestwood.”_   
>  _He nodded at Dorian as he spoke._   
>  _“Yes”, Lea replied, “he did. It seems the Grey Wardens are in quite a bit of trouble.”_

As she neared him, Cullen raised a hand to signal a halt to the army. Then he jumped down from his horse, handing the reins to another rider, and strode forward. She stopped her horse next to him and, as she swung herself down from her mare, he caught her in his arms and held her close. He smelled of sweat and dirt after days on the road with the Inquisition’s massive army, but beneath all of that she could still smell his distinct smell. It had not occurred to her until then just how much she had missed that.

     “I’ve missed you”, he murmured. Lea turned her face and smiled widely.

     “I’ve missed you, too.”

     She was quite certain she saw a spark of relief in his eyes as she said that – as if he had not quite dared to believe she would miss him while off on her own with Solas.

     Solas.

     Her heart clenched, but she did not dare look in the elf’s direction. Not when people were coming closer to say hello to her, when they expected her to be overjoyed to see them all. Dorian was the first to push his way to her and pull her from Cullen’s arms into an embrace of his own. Then came a forceful thump on the back from the Iron Bull and a warm welcome from Cassandra. After that, a reserved smile and nod from Blackwall, a kind smile from Vivienne followed by a double-edged question regarding her stay at Grand Duke Gaspard’s palace, and a pinch in the ass from Sera. Really, how did that city elf always manage to sneak up on her like that?

     Lastly came Varric, followed by Hawke and a man dressed in Grey Warden armour. Stroud, Lea guessed. The man was of about the same height and build as Blackwall, with dark hair and a dark, walrus mustache. His hair had most likely been cropped short during his time with the Wardens, but it had by now started to grow out again, leaving the sides of his head dark with short fuss and the top part to be slicked back with either some sort of grease or perhaps just water and sweat. He stopped a respectful distance away from her, placed his fisted right hand over his heart and bowed.

     “Inquisitor”, he said, his voice gruff and with an Orlesian accent.

     “Warden Stroud”, she replied. “I’m honoured to make your acquaintance.”

     “The honour is mine”, he replied. “I suspect your mage friend forwarded what I told them in Crestwood.”

     He nodded at Dorian as he spoke.

     “Yes”, Lea replied, “he did. It seems the Grey Wardens are in quite a bit of trouble.”

     She turned slightly to look at Blackwall.

     “Is the Calling affecting you as well?”

     The man gave a slight smile.

     “I do not fear it”, he said, “and worrying about it only gives it power. Anything Corypheus does will only strengthen my resolve.”

     That was an odd answer, she thought. In fact, her question could have been answered with a simple yes or no. _Yes_ would indicate that Wardens all across Thedas were affected, not just those who had been with the Order recently – and that Corypheus’ little mind games were not location based. _No_ would indicate the opposite.

     “We’ll set up camp here tonight”, Cullen said, drawing her out of her thoughts. “I need to speak with the Grand Duke and make sure his Chevaliers are ready to move by tomorrow.”

     “And we need to plan”, Cassandra added. “So far we do not know where all the Grey Wardens are – only that they are somewhere near the Western Approach. It has been suggested that a smaller group head there ahead of the army.”

     “So I’ve heard”, Lea said with a nod, “and I agree. It’s a good plan.”

     She looked around at the people gathered around her, sad to see that Leliana and Josephine were not among them. Though they were most likely needed at Skyhold, dealing with what she could not when out here.

     They seriously needed to find some more messenger crystals.

     Then her gaze stuck on Solas – and she realized there had been one more person she had not seen greeting her. Cole. The boy in the large hat was walking next to the elf, who was leading his horse closer to them. The hat kept Lea from seeing if Cole was speaking, but she strongly suspected he was, as Solas seemed to struggle to keep his calm façade up.

     “Solas!” Dorian suddenly called, grinning. “Why, you look very dapper. That colour certainly does bring out your eyes.”

     Lea gave the Tevinter mage an incredulous look. Him commenting on Solas’ clothes was nothing new, of course, but like this…

     Then it dawned on her. She had looked in Solas and Cole’s direction a tad bit too long, perhaps something in her expression had changed – and Dorian had attempted to cover it up.

     “Solas”, Cullen greeted with a nod at the elf, “I’m glad to see you are safe and unharmed.”

     Now it was the Commander’s turn to get an incredulous look from the Inquisitor – and from Solas, though the elf quickly hid his surprise behind a slight bow.

     “It is good to be back. I apologize for drawing the Inquisitor away; it was not my intention.”

     “May I suggest”, Lea said, her voice louder than she had originally intended, “that all of us gathered here, around me, meet up in the command tent once the meeting with Gaspard is over with?”

     “A good idea”, Hawke said. “Until then, I think I’ll explore Verchiel a bit. Varric?”

     “You needn’t ask twice, Chuckles”, the dwarf agreed. “Anyone else?”

     Sera immediately shouted her agreement, then pulled Blackwall with her. Vivienne said something about visiting a friend, but that it would not do to arrive on foot and thus headed back to her mount. While the rest sorted things out, Lea grabbed the reins of her horse and walked around the group towards the rest of the army. They were already setting up camp with the efficiency of soldiers who, by now, were used to this. Several saluted in her direction and pointed her towards the centre, where the main tents were already being erected by squires. It was the first time her tent would be put up on this journey, she realized. As she neared the centre she saw it, marked with the Inquisition’s flag. Along with the command tent it was the only one that seemed close to done. It was currently being tied to poles in the ground by some soldiers while squires and servants carried items from wagons into the tent. Bedrolls, a small table, chairs, a washbasin, and several items she suspected were just for decoration.

     “Inquisitor”, one of the soldiers who had been fastening the tent suddenly said and rose. “Welcome back.”

     “Thanks”, Lea said, frowning slightly at all the items being carried in through the flap. She worried it would be rude to ask them to remove most of those things. They were certainly not necessary.

     “Here, let me take care of your horse”, the soldier continued, then took the reins from her.

     “Hold on”, she protested. The soldier stopped, looking confused. Lea opened and closed her mouth. She had no idea where to lead her horse, she realized, but this soldier did. She was their leader and in their eyes she was not supposed to take care of her own horse now that there was an army around her to help. She had had no trouble letting the servants at Gaspard’s palace take care of her horse, so why was she reluctant to let one of her own soldiers do it?

     “Just… let me get my saddlebag”, she said, then quickly reached up, unfastened the bag with her items and, with it in hand, fled into her tent. She slumped down onto one of the chairs with a groan.

     “He hurts…”

     “Bloody hell, Cole!” she exclaimed and flew out of the chair as the boy seemingly appeared out of thin air on top of her bedrolls.

     “He hurts”, he repeated, “an old pain from before, when everything sang the same. You’re real, and it means everyone could be real. It changes everything, but it can’t.”

     She stared at him. He did not look back up at her; instead he kept his gaze on the ground, his fingers toying with a loose string. Slowly she walked over and sat down in front of him, crossed her legs and peered in beneath his hat. His face was as pale as always, his expression just as thoughtful, as if there was a puzzle laid out before him that he could not find a solution to. As if, somehow, he had found a hurt that his ability to comfort could not erase.

     “You and him are the same”, he then said. “Your hurt is a softer song, deeper down, unable to reach, unable to soothe.”

     “Sometimes that’s the best solution”, Lea replied, forcing a small smile. “You’ve helped so many people at Skyhold, Cole. I’ve seen it. But my hurt is different – and I don’t think I’d be myself if it was taken away. That’s why it’s softer.”

     “Is that why Solas does it, too?” he asked, looking straight at her for the first time.  
     “You’ll have to ask him that.”

     Cole nodded thoughtfully.

     “There’s new pain”, he then said. “Confusion, heart racing, his warm touch, wanting to stay but pulled away. Sunlight and starlight battling in your heart.”

     Her smile, though sad, felt truer now. _Sunlight and starlight_ , she thought. _Fitting descriptions, I suppose_.

     “Can I heal that hurt?” Cole asked. “No, is your answer. No, your head is screaming. No, your heart is shouting. Why?”

     She leaned back slightly.

     “Because if you remove my confusion, my fear of hurting one of them… I will.”

     “Oh.”

* * *

Staying in her tent all day long felt wrong, so she instead opted for helping the amassed soldiers set up camp. Then tend to the horses. Then practice some fighting. She did not see any of her closest friends throughout the day, which she had feared might happen. Of course, she should not fear seeing them again. She should be happy to see them, happy to be able to talk and joke and banter with them after all these days apart. But she was also terrified she would somehow reveal just how much had happened during those days. Most of her friends were terribly perceptive.

     But after a day of hard work she felt better. More at ease. She washed off quickly in her own tent, redressed and walked over to the command tent. Solas reached it at the same time as her and offered her a small smile.

     “I heard you’ve kept yourself busy today, _lethallin_ ”, he said in an easy tone. She knew him well enough to see that he knew exactly why she had spent her day doing physical labour and avoiding the people she was closest with – and that he did not judge her for it.

     “I don’t like the idea of just letting others do things for me”, she replied as he pulled the tent flap open for her.

     “A sound reason”, he said, walking into the tent behind her, just close enough that his breath ghosted across the back of her neck. _Bloody wolf_ , she thought as goose bumps trailed along her skin in response. Despite his words of staying back and remaining as friends instead of something more, a part of him did seem inclined to stake a claim on her. Not in a way that, at the moment, anyone seemed to notice. At least none of the others in the tent seemed to have. They all nodded and smiled in greeting, not noticing anything different than what had been before Lea left Skyhold to chase after Solas. And, as usual, Solas took up a position at the back of the group, while she walked forward to the table covered in maps. Cullen took a step back to let her have the position at the middle – but he did not step back as much as another might have. One small twist of her body and she would bump straight into him.

     _I was wrong_ , she thought to herself. _I’m not dealing with one bloody wolf; I’m dealing with two_.

     She listened with half an ear while Cassandra explained what lay ahead of them in the Western Approach and where the few Wardens they had found had been spotted. Her mind was more focused on what Cullen and Solas were doing – albeit without looking at either of them. Cullen’s behaviour, in particular, did not make sense. She could not be sure, but she did not think he had any idea of Solas’ feelings towards her – and what had almost happened between them in Verchiel. Unless Gaspard had decided to sow some doubt in the Commander’s heart during their meeting. After all, he had insinuated that Solas and her might have something going on between them. Lea would, honestly, not put that past Gaspard. The man did not seem like one who liked playing the Grand Game, but that did not mean he did not do it – or that he did not do it very well. She could not, however, decide what was in it for Gaspard.

     There was also the possibility that Cullen had actually noticed what had happened when they entered the tent. She doubted it. Mainly because, if he had, others would have seen it too – and there would have been some comments regarding it.

     Or he might simply have missed her. He had stood close to her before during meetings, playfully tried to distract her. What had happened at Halamshiral, while she had discussed the situation with him, Josephine and Leliana, was an example of that. But this was not distracting in the same manner as it had been back then. Other than making her wonder why he was doing it.

     “The place where the Wardens have been spotted is an ancient Tevinter ritual tower”, Cassandra said, “and we don’t know how many there are. Our spies have reported estimates ranging from four to a dozen, but they might be off. Nor do we know where we may find the rest of them. It is suggested that a smaller group deal with this group of Wardens, find out where the others are and lead the army there.”

     Lea straightened, focusing her mind entirely on the meeting instead of her own personal dilemmas.

     “Any recommendations?” she asked.

     “I’ll be going”, Stroud replied.

     “As will I”, Hawke added.

     “I’d say a group of six or seven would be wise”, Cullen said. “Travelling with more might draw attention – but your group cannot be too small in case there are more Wardens at this ritual tower than we suspect, and if they are hostile towards you.”

     “I’ll go”, Lea said. Heads spun to look at her.

     “Oh, don’t look so surprised”, she sighed. “I don’t like staying back and letting others do things for me. If I rode with the army instead of investigating this, you’d have a nightmare of an Inquisitor on your hands in a few days.”

     Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Solas’ lips quirk up in a quick smirk.

     “Why, then I’ll come along as well”, Dorian said. His grin was wider – and he did not attempt to hide it.

     “I’ll come too”, Varric said, “for old time’s sake.”

     “And I’ll go as well.”

     That was the Iron Bull. Lea let out a small breath, relieved that she had not somehow managed to break up him and Dorian. This did not seem like a good time for that.

     Although, she was about to leave Cullen behind. Again. And possibly Solas as well. He had not said anything about coming with them. In fact, other than his quick smirk, his expression remained the same as always during meetings such as these. Was he waiting for her to make the decision for him?

     “Solas.”

     That was Cullen speaking – and Lea had to force herself not to stare at him as he spoke with the elven mage above her head.

     “Will you go?” the Commander asked. _That’s it_ , she thought, _I’ve officially fallen through the looking glass_.

     “If the Inquisitor will have me join this quest as well”, Solas said, “then yes, I will go.”

     “You would be most welcome to join us”, Lea replied, looking up at him and meeting his gaze for the first time since walking into the tent. She saw the hint of confusion in his eyes as well, but someone who had not spent that much time with him would most likely miss it. Especially since he now bowed his head in acknowledgment.

     “We leave at dawn tomorrow”, Lea said, turning to face the rest of the group. “If everything goes well, we’ll reach that tower in a little over a week’s time.”

     “The army will move along as quickly as possible”, Cullen filled in, “but we’ll still make slower progress. Expect us at the meeting point in sixteen days.”

     He pointed at the edge of what was known as the Abyssal Reach, in the southern parts of the Approach. Few around the table seemed to think they would actually set up camp there, though. If the company that rode out first found out where the other Wardens were, the army might actually leave the supply carts behind in order to get there as soon as possible. They all knew that time was of the essence.

     Either way, this marked the end of the meeting. One by one they all disappeared off to their own tents to get some rest. Lea did not see Solas leave, but she was quite certain he had been one of the first to go – and in the end the only ones remaining were her and Cullen. The Commander let out a long breath, then reached out and wrapped an arm around her waist. She leaned against him and closed her eyes.

     “You should get some rest”, he murmured into her hair.

     “I know”, she sighed, but she did not move away from him. In fact, he was the one to pull back from her, his hand moving from her waist to take hers.

     “Come.”

     He tugged her with him, out of the command tent to one nearby. His tent. Once inside, he led her to a chair and motioned for her to sit down. Then he knelt in front of her and unlaced her boots. The way his eyes looked when he raised his gaze to meet hers made her think he would continue undressing her in this position, but he had more restraint than that, and instead he rose and swept her up in his arms, carrying her bridal style to the bedrolls. Once there, he helped her remove the pieces of armour she had chosen to wear for the war council, along with her two knives. He then removed the same items from his own body; boots, armour and weapons. And his fur lined cloak.

     “No seducing the Inquisitor tonight, Commander?” she asked him with a smile as he lay down beside her. As she was still sitting up, he had to look up at her when he returned the smile – and then tugged her down on top of him.

     “I’m only planning to have one night’s sleep next to the woman I love”, he said against her lips, before kissing her. She melted against his chest, one hand moving to mess up his blond hair, a gesture he responded to with a groan and with hands that held her closer.

     “How’s that plan working out for you?” she whispered as she broke the kiss. Cullen glared at her, then rolled them over so that he was on top. A giggle escaped her just before he dove in for another kiss.

     “Terribly”, he admitted.

     Lea later wondered if anyone had heard them and reacted to the sound of their lovemaking. Considering the noise of the camp around them – and the two of them doing everything to keep their voices, gasps and groans down – it might have gone unnoticed. Regardless, she found herself smiling up at the fabric above her head, feeling Cullen’s lips lazily nipping her shoulder.

     “You are making sleeping impossible”, she noted and turned her head to look at him. He chuckled.

     “I am, aren’t I?” he said. Then he sighed and rolled over onto his back.

     “We definitely should sleep, however. Dawn is not many hours away – and you need to be well-rested for your journey.”

     She moved closer, resting her head on his chest. In response, his arm wrapped around her back, and she felt herself slowly starting to slip away to sleep.

     “I asked Solas to go with you because I trust him.”

     She was wide awake in an instant and turned her face up to look at him, frowning.

     “What?”

     “I trust him”, Cullen repeated. “I trust everyone in your Inner Circle, but I trust him the most.”

     She pushed herself up to be able to study him better.

     “I’m beginning to feel quite certain I’m missing a vital piece of the puzzle, here”, she said. “You and Solas never interact with one another. You’re a former Templar and he’s a mage. How come you trust him more than people like Cassandra?”

     “Because his focus is always on keeping you safe.”

     Lea’s head was spinning.

     “Everyone’s working to keep you safe and make sure you make it back alive, of course”, Cullen added, “but I also know they would follow your orders. If you sent them away, they would go. Reluctantly, yes, but they would. Solas would not.”

     “So you asked him to go because you want him to be my bodyguard?” she asked.

     “No”, he replied, “I asked him to go because he would have left on his own otherwise. I do not doubt his ability to survive – I know he has before – but I do not know what I would have told you if I arrived with the army and he was not with us, nor with you.”

     She was not sure how to reply to that. Mainly because she still could not understand the way that Cullen suddenly seemed to acknowledge Solas. That he seemed to _see_ him. Considering the way Solas had looked both when they had met the army and when Cullen addressed him during the council, the elf did not understand it either. But something was clearly changing between the templar and the mage.

     And it sounded like it did not have to do with rivalry.

     “Thank you”, she said and lay back down, her ear pressed to his chest, listening to his beating heart. His breathing soon evened out and he fell asleep, while she remained awake, turning the mystery of these two very different men over in her head.

     Sunlight and starlight, Cole had called them. Light and dark. Day and night. The lion and the wolf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for not updating in a while! I've had a few busy weeks at work with parent-teacher meetings and preparing for an evening when we invited people to come and visit our classroom, and actually hosting said evening - and I also managed a weekend trip to London in the middle of all of that X) I got back from London earlier this week and I've since then been catching up on work and, at the moment, I'm down with a bit of a cold, but that's not enough to keep me from writing!  
> I'm really happy with the response I've received for this story! So glad you're all enjoying it - I was terrified of publishing it to begin with, especially since I know it's going to be a long story and I wasn't sure if people would be up for reading through all of it. I'm really glad you're enjoying the twist with Solas and I hope you all enjoyed what happened between Cullen and Solas in this chapter. I am not sure if this story will end up in a threesome - I've never written such a piece, but these characters sometimes have minds of their own, so we'll see!
> 
> Also: I am drafting a few other DA stories at the moment! One's quite short and might be posted soon, while the other's still very much in the drafting phase. What I can say about that one is that it will follow the story line of DA:I _but_ it will be set entirely on Earth. So I need to make some people human and decide on what countries to place things in and such ;) That will not be posted until this story is finished!


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“You take point”, Hawke said. “I’ll guard your backs.”_   
>  _Lea nodded, then fell into step beside Stroud. She felt the others follow, but her mind was soon on the very real stench that seemed to emanate from the tower itself. The wind had masked it somewhat before, but now, this close, there was no way to escape it. Flesh rotting in the desert sun._   
>  _“Ah, shit”, Varric hissed. There was a pile of corpses just below the stairs leading up to the courtyard. All in Grey Warden armor. Stroud looked away – and Lea did not think this was the right time to ask if he recognized them. Considering his former position within the Wardens, he most certainly did._

As decided the night before, their small group of seven left at dawn. Only a few had come outside to wish them a safe journey – Cullen among them. He had pulled Lea to him and kissed her deeply one last time before she got up onto her horse. As she rode up next to Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall gave her an amused smirk.

     “Varric filled me in”, he admitted quietly, “but I did have my suspicions prior to that.”

     “Why?” she asked.

     “Cullen is a charming man”, Hawke replied, “and the brief sight of him I caught back in Skyhold while I was there… well, he’s not lost any of what I saw in him at Kirkwall.”

     Lea was grateful she was secure in her horse’s saddle, her muscles holding her upright reflexively, because if she had been walking she would most certainly have stumbled and fallen.

     “You had a _crush_ on Cullen?” she hissed, although she was quite certain her other companions heard it just as well. Especially since Varric let out a cough that masked a chuckle.

     “What can I say?” Hawke replied with a grin and shrugged. “I like good-looking men.”

     At that, both Dorian, the Iron Bull and Varric burst out laughing outright. A glance at Stroud revealed that he was smiling behind his long mustache. Only Solas remained quiet – though mirth was dancing in those grey eyes of his.

     “No need to worry”, Hawke added. “I found the man for me years ago – and although he has a habit of disappearing to hunt slavers every now and then, he owns my heart.”

     “Broody’s living the life”, Varric said with a grin. Lea frowned at him, then turned back at Hawke.

     “Broody?”

     “Fenris”, Hawke clarified. “His name is Fenris. You’d like him, Inquisitor. When all this is over, I’ll see that you two meet.”

     _If we all survive_ , she dryly thought. Then she shook herself and instead pushed her horse into a gallop, leaving the Inquisition’s camp behind.

     Travelling in a group of seven was different from travelling alone with Solas – and yet not at all. By the time they set up camp that night they had established a rapport amongst themselves, acting very little like a scouting party and more like a group of friends out on an adventure. They roasted a deer over the campfire – which Varric had shot only an hour before – and decided who should stand guard at which time. Hawke and Dorian drew the short straws for first watch that night, but did not seem too bothered by it. Those two were becoming fast friends, something that Hawke remarked Fenris would be bothered by.

     “He does not easily open up to mages – least of all those from Tevinter. Those he prefers to knock on the head. _If_ he has a good day, that is.”

     “Then remind me to stay out of his way when you two come to visit Skyhold”, Dorian replied with an easy grin. Lea knew he would do the exact opposite of that.

     As always when travelling with Varric, the dwarf entertained them with his stories. He told them both around the campfire at night and during the slower portions of the ride during the day. Stroud – being the only member of the group who had not heard them before – was the only one who seemed intrigued by the tales of wonder that the dwarf spun for them all. As for the rest, they enjoyed the stories because they kept their mind off of what lay ahead.

     During the fourth day, the landscape around them begun to take on the characteristics of the desert. The air became dryer and hotter and the wind blew little pebbles of sand into their faces. Lea hoped they were not riding straight into a sandstorm. From what she had heard, they were rare in the Western Approach at this time of the year, but with their luck they might just find the one that did occur. And that night, the mood around the campfire was more solemn than before. Varric did not immediately start up a story and, as they had not managed to hunt down any fresh meat to roast, they ate part of what they had brought with them from the Inquisition’s camp.

     “No story tonight, Varric?” Dorian asked after a while, chewing a piece of hard cheese.

     “No”, the dwarf replied. “None seem fitting.”

     “What?” Dorian said, looking surprise. “You have no stories of wanderers entering a deadly desert?”

     Lea could see anger flare in the dwarf’s eyes – a rarity in itself, and thus not something she wished for now that they were getting closer to the danger.

     “ _I amar prestar aen_ ”, she said just as Varric’s fingers brushed against Bianca’s handle.

     Everything fell silent and six pairs of eyes turned towards her. Most were frowning. Only Solas looked curious. Intrigued.

     “ _Han mathon ne nen, han mathon ne chae, a han noston ned gwilith_ ”, she recited.

     “Is that elven?” Dorian asked, looking at Solas.

     “No”, he replied. His grey eyes were glued to her, just like they had been when he had been in wolf form and listened to her telling a story to the Dalish.

     “The world has changed”, she translated, looking into the fire instead of those eyes. “I can feel it in the water, I can feel it in the earth, I can smell it in the air. Much that once was is lost, for none now live who remember it.”

     She picked up a stick and poked at the fire, moving the logs around slightly, just to have something to do while she recalled the rest of the line. There had been a time when she could recite the script from that movie from the top of her head just after being woken up in the middle of the night – and even though she did not remember it as quickly now, she soon found the stash in her mind where they were.

     “It began with the forging of the great rings”, she said. “Three were given to the elves, immortal, wisest and fairest of all beings.”

     Someone snorted. She suspected it was the Iron Bull.

     “Seven to the dwarf lords”, she continued, “great miners and craftsmen of the mountain halls. And nine… nine rings were gifted to the race of men – who, above all else, desire power.”

     No one spoke or made a sound this time.

     “For within these rings was bound the strength and will to govern each race… but they were all of them deceived, for another ring was made.”

     She gave the fire a vicious poke, sending embers flying up into the sky. Stroud let out a surprised curse, while Dorian and Solas quickly put up shields above everything that might catch fire. Just as she had suspected they would.

     “In the land of Mordor”, she said, “in the fires of Mount Doom, the Dark Lord Sauron forged in secret a master ring, to control all others. And into this Ring, he poured his cruelty, his malice, and his will to dominate all life. One Ring to rule them all.”

     She put the stick aside and rose.

     “One by one”, she said and begun pacing slightly, “the free lands of Middle Earth fell to the power of the Ring. But there were some who resisted. A last alliance of men and elves marched against the armies of Mordor, and on the slopes of Mount Doom they fought for the freedom of Middle Earth. Among them were the elven king Gil-Galad and the king of the free men, Elendil, and Elendil’s son – Isildur. Together they battled – and soon, victory was close enough for them to taste it. But the power of the Ring could not be undone. For at this moment Sauron himself came onto the battlefield. No one stood a chance. With one sweep of his mace, he would kill a dozen warriors. No blade could pierce his armour, no shield could keep him at bay. In a desperate attempt to end things, King Elendil rushed forward and engaged Sauron in combat. The Dark Lord flung him against the mountain, breaking his body and the spirit of the men fighting at the same time.”

     Their gazes burned, but she refused to look up at them, instead opting to keep her gaze on the ground, on the almost visible path her feet had made in the sand.

     “Horrified, Isildur rushed up to his father’s side, praying that it was not too late. The Dark Lord saw his chance at ending the royal line of men once and for all, and towered over the prince, intending to strike. It was in this moment, when all hope had faded, that Isildur reached to take up his father’s sword. Sauron’s responded by crushing the weapon beneath his foot, leaving Isildur with a handle and a broken blade. The Dark Lord laughed and reached down to grab the prince. But the same desperation to end things that had been in Elendil rested in Isildur – and Isildur swung the broken blade in an arc in front of him. Its still sharp edge cut through Sauron’s fingers – and the Dark Lord’s Ring dropped to the ground.”

     The only sound around them was the crackling of the fire. No one seemed to even breathe.

     “With the Ring gone, Sauron was no more. All that remained of him was his armour and his mace. The enemy of the free people of Middle Earth was defeated – and the Ring passed to Isildur, who did not know just what he had come to possess. King Gil-Galad’s second in command, Lord Elrond the Half-Elven, did, and he urged Isildur to follow him inside Mount Doom. To the very place where the Ring had been forged. There, he told Isildur to cast the Ring into the fire and destroy it. Isildur refused – and squandered his one chance to destroy evil forever. For the Ring of Power has a will of its own – and the hearts of Men are easily corrupted. Eventually, it betrayed Isildur. It revealed the new King’s location to some of the last of Sauron’s men. The King was killed – and the Ring was lost in the waters of a nearby river. History soon became legend, and legend became myth, and for two and a half thousand years, the Ring passed out of all knowledge. Until, when chance came, it ensnared a new bearer.”

     She paused, considering if she should make the Gollum-impression that her friends had loved to hear in school. Of course, those friends all knew who Gollum was and why it was a good impression. Her friends here did not – and she did not have time to explain the strange voice.

     “The Ring came to the creature Gollum”, she instead said, “who took it deep into the tunnels of the Misty Mountains. And there, it consumed him. Changed him. The Ring brought to Gollum unnatural long life. For five hundred years it poisoned his mind – and in the gloom of Gollum’s cave it waited, while darkness crept back into the world. Rumour grew of a shadow in the east, whispers of a nameless fear, and the Ring of Power perceived its time had now come. It abandoned Gollum… but something happened then the Ring did not intend. It was picked up by the most unlikely creature imaginable. A hobbit; Bilbo Baggins of the Shire. And soon, the time would come when Hobbits would shape the fortunes of all.”

     She sat back down again, crossing her legs before looking up at her companions. Varric was gaping.

     “You need to tell me more of that”, he eventually said. “I’ll give you thirty percent of the profit.”

     She smiled and shook her head at him.

     “Maybe one day, Varric, if there’s time.”

     “What is a hobbit?” the Iron Bull asked.

     “Well”, Lea said, grabbing a cup of water that Solas wordlessly passed to her. She gave him a thankful smile, one he returned as he sat down next to her again. The fingers of his right hand made tiny, almost unnoticeable circles in the air – and she felt as if those fingers were on her skin, gently moving across her back. She held herself back from shooting him a warning glare. No need for the others to know what he was up to.

     “Well”, she repeated after taking a sip of water and trying not to show any outward signs of what Solas’ magical fingers on her back made her feel, “they’re a people who prefer the comforts of home to adventuring out into the real world. They’re small in stature – only a few feet tall – and have curly, thick hair. This hair is also present on the top of their feet, which have thick leathery soles and thus a hobbit has no need for shoes. They enjoy food and drink, smoking pipe-weed, and have a great love for all things that grow out of the earth. Their homes are located inside of hills – but they’re no ordinary caverns, but comforting, well-decorated homes, with rounded doors and windows, stuffed pantries, and warm hearths during the winter months.”

     As expected, the Iron Bull looked even more confounded at this explanation. Dorian laughed.

     “Why, I did not know you were a storyteller”, he said, then rose and stretched. “I expect a continuation of that one at some point. Now, however, I think I’ll get some rest before it’s my turn to stand guard.”

     The others seemed to agree with this statement and, one by one, they all made to get ready for bed. Everyone but Stroud and Varric, who would be standing guard during the first portion of the night. No one said a word when Solas and Lea headed to their own tent. The first time they had set up camp, Stroud – being far too chivalrous for his own good at times – had suggested Lea sleep alone in one tent, being the only woman in the group. She had responded by walking into the tent where Solas had dropped his belongings and put down her own bags there, crossing her arms and challenging them all with a glare to protest this action. No one had – and as no one seemed to have figured out that their feelings for one another ran a bit deeper than just friendship, there had been no comments on the matter in the following days. They did not dare sleep near one another as they had when alone, however, as someone would walk into the tent during the night or early morning to wake them for their turn at the watch. Nor had they walked the Fade together since one night in Verchiel.

     Until this night.

     The moment Lea closed her eyes she found herself in the forest glade that belonged to her and Solas. It had changed since last time; there were wildflowers everywhere and the light was not the intense daylight that had been there every other time, but a dimmer, gentler light of dusk or dawn. When she first turned to look around, she saw no sign of Solas. But she could feel him, as if he was in the soft breeze that brushed against her skin, touching her just as gently as he had magically before by the fire.

     “I like what you’ve done with the place”, she said, smiling slightly. Then his arms wound around her waist and his breath brushed against her neck. She closed her eyes and leaned back against him.

     “Tell me to stop”, he murmured, his teeth grazing her ear in a gentle nibble.

     “Why?” she replied. Her brain felt mushy; all she could focus on was the way his lips trailed down her throat and how his fingers made patterns on her stomach.

     “I don’t want to force you to choose”, he whispered. Then he slowly, reluctantly pulled back, putting more space between them without fully letting go of her. She let out a long breath, then turned to face him.

     “You’re making that very, very difficult”, she said, poking him in the chest with a finger to mark her words. Solas’ lips curved up in a smile.

     “I can smell that”, he said, eyes gleaming with mischief.

     “Jesus Christ”, she muttered, feeling herself turn as red as a tomato. He chuckled, then let go of her.

     “My apologies”, he said. “I should be able to restrain myself better than this, but, in the Fade, I find things easier. And, sometimes, that makes things much more complicated.”

     He paused, studying her intently.

     “What language did you speak in before?”

     “Do you remember Rivendell?” she asked in turn. He nodded.

     “The story I told”, she continued, “and the language I spoke are from that place. From that made-up world. It’s one of the elven languages.”

     “Say those words again”, he said.

     “ _I amar prestar aen._ _Han mathon ne nen, han mathon ne chae, a han noston ned gwilith_.”

     She said them slowly, and he repeated them, over and over until he pronounced the words even better than she did. He then asked her to teach him other phrases – and they spent the rest of the night speaking sentence after sentence in one of Tolkien’s elven tongues. Their near make-out session at the start was already a distant memory when Solas rose from their sitting position, announcing that it was almost their turn to stand guard. Right before they both woke up, however, he took hold of her arm, looking thoughtful.

     “Why did Cullen ask me to go with you?” he asked. He must have wondered that since they left camp, but not until tonight had he actually voiced the question.

     “Because he trusts you”, Lea replied, “more than he trusts anyone else in the Inner Circle.”

* * *

There was a slightly stunned expression on Solas’ face throughout the rest of the day. Then the look turned pensive, thoughtful, as if he was turning over a puzzle in his head and could not figure out the correct solution no matter which way he turned the pieces. He spoke little, but Lea was asked by the others to speak more than earlier around their evening campfires, telling the story of the One Ring. She tried to shorten the story as much as possible, but Varric insisted in getting details, causing the story to become longer and longer. By their last night before reaching the ancient ritual tower – at least by the Iron Bull’s estimate – the hobbits had only made it to Bree. Lea wryly noted that it would take her at least a year to tell the full story.

     The ritual tower in question appeared among the reddish sand dunes near noon the next day. It consisted of a ruined tower, an open courtyard and a long stone walkway from what must have been a gate once upon a time. Lea felt the Anchor flare slightly – and Solas, riding to her left, pulled his horse to a halt.

     “What they’re doing”, he said, “it does not feel right. Not even from this distance. No one’s come near this place in days.”

     “I don’t like it, either”, Dorian agreed.

     “I fear they’ve already started the ritual”, Stroud said. Hawke made a disgruntled noise. He had become moodier in the last few days, clearly worried that, perhaps, they were walking into a trap.

     “It has to be blood magic”, he said. “I hope we can stop them before more people get hurt.”

     They tied their horses to a copse of old, gnarled trees near the road, then hurried up to the gate of the tower. There were no watchmen, no guards. If it was not for the strange feeling in the air, the tingle of foul magic, of wrongness, Lea might have thought the tower was indeed abandoned.

     “You take point”, Hawke said. “I’ll guard your backs.”

     Lea nodded, then fell into step beside Stroud. She felt the others follow, but her mind was soon on the very real stench that seemed to emanate from the tower itself. The wind had masked it somewhat before, but now, this close, there was no way to escape it. Flesh rotting in the desert sun.

     “Ah, shit”, Varric hissed. There was a pile of corpses just below the stairs leading up to the courtyard. All in Grey Warden armor. Stroud looked away – and Lea did not think this was the right time to ask if he recognized them. Considering his former position within the Wardens, he most certainly did.

     Despite this, she was not prepared for the scene that met them atop the stairs. The courtyard was mostly in ruins. In its center was a small Fade rift, which she had guessed from the way the Anchor had pulsed earlier, but there were people standing on either side of it. People _and_ demons. And the people were Grey Wardens, standing side by side with the demons, as if they were regular comrades. _Wrong_ , she thought and felt the Anchor pulse in agreement. _Wrong, wrong, this is way beyond wrong_.

     “Inquisitor!”

     Her eyes were drawn to the man standing on the opposite side of the courtyard, atop the stairs that had once led inside the tower itself. He had the darker skin of the north, but her did not emanate warmth and kindness like Dorian or Josephine did. Instead he seemed oily. She actually wondered if her telling stories about _Lord of the Rings_ had brought Gríma Wormtongue into this world.

     “What an unexpected pleasure”, the man continued and made an exaggerated bow. “Lord Livius Erimond of Vyrantium, at your service.”

     Tevinter. Why was she not surprised?

     “You are no Warden”, Stroud snarled.

     “But you are”, Erimond said with a sigh. “The one Clarel let slip. And you found the Inquisitor and came to stop me. Shall we see how that goes?”

     Lea looked around at the Wardens in the courtyard. No one moved. No one even blinked. _He’s controlling them, somehow_ , she thought. She doubted shouting at them that they were being deceived would do anything but amuse the man on top of the stairs.

     “Shall I demonstrated just how difficult your job might become, Inquisitor?” Erimond said, smiling like a satisfied cat. “Wardens, hands up!”

     Every Warden in the courtyard raised their hand, in the exact same gesture as Erimond.

     “Hands down.”

     All hands dropped down.

     “Corypheus has taken their minds”, Stroud said, looking at her in desperation. Erimond tutted.

     “No, no, they did this to themselves”, he said. “The Calling had the Wardens terrified. They looked _everywhere_ for help.”

     “Even Tevinter”, Stroud sighed.

     “Yes”, Erimond agreed, “and since it was my Master who put the Calling into their little heads, we in the Venatori were prepared. I went to Clarel full of sympathy, and together we came up with a plan…”

     He smiled again. Lea found herself thinking of him as the typical villain in a comic book – the kind that always tells everyone their entire plan. And is then destroyed because the heroes saw through the flaws of said plan. Hopefully they would now be able to do the same.

     “We would raise a demon army, march into the Deep Roads, and kill the Old Gods before they wake.”

     Lea raised her eyebrows in surprise. _A demon army? This is the demon army Evelyn saw in that vision of the future?_

     “You know”, she said, “I was beginning to wonder when the demon army would show up.”

     Erimond frowned.

     “You… knew about it, did you?” he said, then cleared his throat and flung his arms out, as if to showcase the demons present. “Well, then, here you are.”

     Then his mouth twisted up in a wicked smile.

     “Sadly for the Wardens, the binding ritual I taught their mages has… a bit of a side effect. They are now my Master’s slaves. This was but a test, though. Once the rest of the Wardens complete the Ritual, the army will conquer Thedas.”

     “So”, Lea said, “Corypheus influenced the Wardens and made them do this ritual of yours?”

     Erimond let out a barking laugh.

     “ _Made_ them?” he said. “No. Everything you see here? The blood sacrifices to bind the demons? The Wardens did it of their own free will. Fear is a very good motivator, and they were very afraid.”

     He shook his head.

     “You should have seen Clarel agonize over the decision. Burdens of command, I suppose.”

     He shot her a wicked smile.

     “Wouldn’t you agree, Inquisitor?”

     “I’m not convinced yet”, she replied. “Why kill the Old Gods?”

     “I thought you were an educated sort”, Erimond replied, “or didn’t you know that a Blight happens when darkspawn find and Old God and corrupt it into an archdemon? Thus, logically, if someone fought through the Deep Roads and killed the Old Gods before they could be corrupted… _poof_ … no more Blights, ever! The Wardens sacrifice their lives and save the world.”

     “That’s madness!” Solas exclaimed, stepping forward to stand next to her. “For all we know, killing the Old Gods could make things even worse!”

     Erimond chuckled.

     “Well, then, knife-ear, it’s a good thing I’m taking this demon army out of their hands.”

     Lea kept herself from placing a hand on Solas’ arm, in comfort or unity she did not know. She did not need Erimond to know just how much she cared for the elf – and use that to his advantage.

     “Demons need no food”, Erimond continued, “no rest, no healing. Once bound, they will never retreat, never question orders. They are the perfect army to fight through the Deep Roads – or across Orlais, now that they are bound to my Master.”

     He let out another chuckle. No one else joined him – not even the Wardens who were bound to his will. They just stood there, like puppets waiting for their strings to be pulled.

     “And what do you get out of all of this?” Lea asked. “Are you not at all worried about future Blights?”

     “The Elder One commands the Blight”, Erimond scoffed. “He is not commanded _by_ it, like the mindless darkspawn. The Blight is not unstoppable or uncontrollable; it is simply a tool.”

     “No, Livius”, Dorian muttered. “ _You’re_ the tool.”

     Erimond did not seem to have heard him. If he had, he made a point of ignoring the comment.

     “As for me”, he said instead, “while the Elder One rules from the Golden City, we, the Venatori, will be his god-kings here in the world.”

     Lea glanced right, at Stroud, and then at Solas on her left. Both looked like they had had enough of Livius Erimond’s preaching – just like she felt.

     “So, Erimond”, she said, “you think you can stand against me and my friends with some demons and a Fade rift?”

     “Ah”, Erimond replied, “I’m sorry to tell you that I came a bit more prepared than that.”

     He flung his hand out and Lea felt as if the Anchor had turned to liquid fire. She gritted her teeth and clenched her left wrist with her right hand, fighting to keep the scream back in her throat. She felt more than saw Solas move an inch in her direction, before realizing that no one else did – and that she did not want him to. Not in this moment, when Erimond was clearly testing her strength.

     “The Elder One showed me how to deal with you”, the magister said, “in the event you were foolish enough to interfere again.”

     She dropped onto her knees, glaring up at him while her left arm kept burning beneath her skin. The Anchor glowed – and she almost thought it was in protest. _You hate this, don’t you?_ she thought at it. In response, she only received a feeling of agreement. _Prove it_ , she thought. _Show him he cannot control you._

     “That mark you bear?” Erimond said. “The Anchor that lets you pass safely through the Veil? You stole that from my Master – and he’s been forced to seek other ways to access the Fade. When I bring him your head, his gratitude will be…”

     In a flurry of movement, Lea rose to her feet and aimed the Anchor at the Fade rift in front of her. Power erupted from the mark, releasing the pain he had sent into it and instead turning it into a force that closed the rift in mere seconds – and sent Erimond flying backwards into the stones behind him. He slowly rose again, clutching at his side. A broken rib, maybe two – and from the way he stood, she guessed she had also injured his right leg. His pale eyes stared at her in horror.

     “Kill them!” he cried out at the Grey Wardens and demons in the courtyard.

     “Finally!” the Iron Bull growled. Lea considered ordering them to spare the Wardens – but a look from Stroud made her realize that it was too late. They were puppets whose master had just pulled their strings, moved them into action. She drew her knives, adjusted her grip, and rushed one of the mages.

     Despite being the smaller group, they came out victorious much faster than she had anticipated. The Wardens were intent on killing and had not even bothered to put up defensive shields, meaning they were easily dispatched off. Like puppets who had had their threads cut off. The demons took a little bit longer, but not much. In the end it felt almost too easy. Nothing but a distraction to keep them from catching Erimond, who had fled the scene.

     “What a waste”, Hawke said as he sheathed his sword.

     “They were tricked”, Lea replied. “It seems all they were trying to do was prevent future Blights.”

     Hawke laughed bitterly.

     “With blood magic and human sacrifice?”

     “The Wardens were wrong, Hawke”, Stroud said, “but they had their reasons.”

     The Champion of Kirkwall sent a withering glare at him.

     “All blood mages do”, he said. “Everyone has a story they tell themselves to justify bad decisions – and it never matters. In the end, you are always alone with your actions.”

     Stroud held his gaze for a few moments longer, then turned away. Erimond’s horse was kicking up a cloud of sand around it and its rider disappeared into the desert.

     “What’s in that direction?” Lea asked. “I doubt Erimond would ride blindly.”

     “He’s not”, Stroud bitterly replied. “There’s an old abandoned fortress in that direction – Adamant, guarding the Abyssal Reach. I should have known that was where they were Clarel had brought them all.”

     “It’s guarding the Abyssal Reach?” she asked with a frown. “Where we’re supposed to meet the rest of the army?”

     “Roughly a day’s ride away from our meeting place, closer to Arl Dumat.”

     Lea stared after Erimond’s dust cloud. If their calculations were correct, it would take the army another seven days from now to reach their meeting point – and from there it would take them another day to this fortress Stroud suspected was where the Wardens were camping out. Thus it would be eight days – if all went well – before they could launch an attack. What worried her was that Erimond had claimed this had been a test and, once he reached Adamant, he would certainly convince Warden-Commander Clarel that it had been successful and that they needed to move on to the real deal.

     How many Wardens would remain with their minds intact once the Inquisition reached the fortress? And how many demons would have been brought out of the Fade by the time the battle took place?

     “Come”, Dorian said, suddenly standing next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “We need to find a place to rest.”

     He turned her away from the now near invisible dust cloud, guiding her back towards the stone walkway. Her eyes strayed in Solas’ direction, but he was standing with his back towards them, facing the tower. To most he must have looked contemplative, especially since he rested his hands behind his back, lightly clasping them together, but Lea saw something else.

     She saw a wolf ready to kill something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments on the last chapter, hope you all enjoyed this as well! Adamant is one of my favorite missions, so hopefully I'll be able to write it out pretty quickly.
> 
> And side-note: I love making Lea a bit of a Tolkien-geek ;)


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“We’ll keep them occupied”, Cullen said, having entered with the soldiers. “You get to Warden-Commander Clarel.”_   
>  _His golden eyes bore into hers, and even though she wanted to wrap her arms around him and kiss him goodbye, she only managed a terse nod._   
>  _“I’ll be fine”, she said. “Just keep the men safe.”_   
>  _“We’ll do what we have to, Inquisitor”, Cullen replied, bowing his head slightly at her. The time for goodbyes was over._

They rode until darkness fell, then set up camp for the night. Few words were exchanged over the fire and no one asked Lea to continue her story. Solas walked away from the camp while the others were still eating. He did not take his pack or his horse, which to the others meant he remained nearby, but in Lea’s mind it could also mean him turning into a wolf and chasing after Erimond to stop him. She wondered if that would be a good plan to enact. It would stop Corypheus, certainly, but people would ask questions when it was discovered what had killed the man. Wolves did not wander this far west in Orlais. Also, she did not want Solas to risk his life like that. They were in this together.

     “Inquisitor”, Hawke said, bringing her out of her thoughts, “mind taking first watch with me?”

     Lea blinked, then looked at Dorian, who was Hawke’s usual watch partner. Her mage friend just shrugged.

     “Fine by me. I’d appreciate getting a bit more sleep.”

     And with that, it was decided. One by one, Dorian, Varric, Stroud and the Iron Bull headed off to get some rest, leaving the Champion of Kirkwall and the Inquisitor by the fire.

     “You’ve hardly eaten”, Hawke said after a long break of silence. Lea looked down at the hard cheese and bits of dried meat that she still had on her plate.

     “It’s been… a rough day”, she sighed.

     “I agree”, Hawke said, “but I don’t think that’s why you’re not eating.”

     He looked over his shoulder in the direction Solas had gone – and Lea felt her heart stop. _How the hell_ …

     “You and him move in sync”, Hawke said, turning back to face her, “like you constantly read each other’s mind, know where the other is.”

     “What are you insinuating, Hawke?” she asked.

     “Something you already know”, he replied, “and, believe me, I don’t envy you the problems that might come out of this. But when it comes to elves who keep running off… don’t let them.”

     He nodded in the direction Solas had gone.

     “Go.”

     “We’re on watch”, Lea replied, though every muscle in her body felt ready to sprint off into the darkness. Hawke gave her a crooked smile.

     “If someone comes out and asks, I’ll tell them you’ve gone to do your lady business.”

     She gave him a punch on the arm in reply, then a quick kiss on the cheek as thanks for making her go.

     “I owe you”, she said.

     “Just go to him”, he replied and basically shoved her away. She grinned, then took off running. Once she was away from the camp, the darkness did not seem so pressing. It was more blue than black, and the sky was speckled with stars. Tracking Solas was, however, not an easy task in the desert. The sand had already blown over his tracks and she simply had to guess where he might be. If he had turned into a wolf, he could be anywhere, but as an elf…

     Lea steered her feet to a rock formation not too far away from the camp. At least the light of the campfire was still visible behind her. While getting closer to these rocks, she was able to pick up the sound of dull thuds. At first she thought they came from below ground. Then, as she walked around the rocks, she realized that the dullness of the thuds was due to a silencing spell, as Solas was aiming spell after powerful spell at invisible targets. He whirled around in a deadly dance, his face tense. It was what she had sensed in him at the ritual tower; the intense need for destruction.

     She did not dare step too close. A part of her knew Solas would never, intentionally, hurt her, but at the moment she was not sure it was wise of her to risk that. Thus she remained outside of his barrier until he noticed her, and stopped moving. She walked through the barrier, but kept some distance between them since he did not look her in the eye.

     “Are you alright, Solas?” she asked.

     “Will you always track me down?” he asked in turn.

     “Yes.”

     He was silent for a few moments, then turned to face her.

     “We must stop the Wardens from carrying out this insane plan”, he said, his voice trembling with anger. “To seek out these Old Gods deliberately, in some… bizarre attempt to prevent the Blight…”

     “They won’t succeed”, Lea interrupted. “We’re going to stop them, _together_.”

     He blinked and some of the anger drained away from him.

     “You thought I might have left again”, he said.

     “I know when you get angry, Solas. I knew you wanted to chase after Erimond and kill him the moment we left the tower. So, yes, I did think you had gone after him tonight.”

     “Did you want me to?”

     “I…”

     She hesitated, then ran a hand through her hair with a sigh.

     “I don’t know”, she said. “I want to stop Erimond – and I’m worried he’ll have a hell of a head start on creating his demon army since it’s still a week or so until the Inquisition’s army arrives. Our small group cannot take on a fortress full of Wardens alone, thus chasing after Erimond and killing him before he reaches Adamant might have bought us time. Or it might have done the opposite. Clarel might know the ritual Erimond spoke of, might be able to do it on her own – not knowing that it will enslave the Grey Wardens. If Erimond has set a time when he should be back at Adamant, him not arriving might make her rush things. People might also become suspicious about a wolf attack in this part of Orlais.”

     Solas was staring at her, but she could not stop herself from speaking.

     “And Erimond might have been able to fight back against you – might have even killed you – and I would be left behind not knowing what had happened or if you were alive or…”

     Solas’ staff thudded to the ground. He took two long steps towards her, cradled her head in both hand and kissed her. She reached out and gripped his tunic, pulled to bring him closer, and felt his foot nudge hers. Understanding, she took a few steps back, letting him guide her until she hit the rock formation she had circled before. His tongue found its way past her lips and she met it with her own, tangling them together, causing him to growl and for one of his hands to run back into her hair, gripping it in a way that was both gentle and hard at the same time. She whimpered, but did not let up. Not until he broke the kiss, both of them completely out of breath. He rested his forehead against hers, the hand that had been in her hair moved to the rockface while the one that had remained on her cheek trailed down her throat, along her side until it rested on her hip.

     “I will _never_ leave you again”, he promised, his voice deep and raspy. She let one of her hands leave his tunic, going up to run along the sharp line of his jaw, to his ear. He shuddered.

     “ _Vhenan_ ”, he hissed. His hand scraped against the rock next to her head. She was not sure if he moved it closer to her, away from her, or if he had clenched his fingers. Looking into his face, she guessed it might be the last of those options. Every muscle was pulled taut and his eyes were liquid pools of dark silver as he met her gaze, his lips slightly parted as he drew in deep breaths of the cool night desert air. She hated seeing him this torn. Hell, she hated _feeling_ this torn! Why did both Cullen and Solas have to be so perfect for her? Why did she have to end up in this idiotic love-triangle when she should be focusing on saving this world – and most likely Earth as well?

     “I hate this”, she sighed, moving her hand back down to rest on his chest. He relaxed slightly against her and moved his head in order to place a kiss on her forehead.

     “I know, _vhenan_. I’m sorry.”

     “It takes two to tango”, she replied, earning a confused frown from him. “I’m just as much in this as you are. You’re not to blame.”

     He still did not look fully convinced, but he nodded and took a step back, putting some space between them. She felt a chill run through her body the instant he disappeared.

     “Hawke knows”, she said while he turned away to pick up his staff. He stopped at once.

     “What?”  
     “He figured it out, somehow. He was the one who sent me out here, to find you.”

     “The Champion of Kirkwall is an intriguing man, it seems”, Solas said, frowning deeply.

     “That”, Lea replied with a sigh, “is an understatement.”

     Solas gently placed an arm around her shoulders, offering her some of his body heat as they started to walk back towards the camp.

     “I thought he liked seeing you with Cullen”, he pointed out.

     “I believe he did, but when he realized how much I was secretly fretting about you being gone… well, he offered to cover for me while I tracked you down. And all but said…”

     She hesitated, causing Solas to stop and turn to face her.

     “All but said what?” he prompted. She met his gaze. It was less liquified by now, but just as intense. She had to swallow several times before she could speak again.

     “All but said… that I love you.”

     He stared at her, eyes wide, lips slightly parted. Everything about him said he had not expected this, just like he – months ago – had not expected her to become his friend. To trust him, care for him, enjoy spending time with him. He was not someone who expected people to love him.

     “You love me?” he said, his voice quiet. She nodded.

     “Yes.”

     He took a step closer, cupped her face in the hand that was not carrying his staff. Then he placed a soft kiss on her lips. It made her toes curl in her boots; it was so different from the other kisses they had shared. Those had been filled with need, desire and desperation. This… this was a kiss of love. It contained all the stories still untold, all the words still unsaid, all the apologies not yet given, all the jokes not yet shared. It was a kiss that froze time all around them – and kept it frozen for several moments after they had parted.

     “ _Ar lath ma, vhenan_ ”, he murmured against her lips when he pulled back. Though she did not understand the exact translation of those words, she understood what he meant – and it made her heart do an Olympic gold medal winning gymnastics routine in her chest. She smiled at him and saw him smiling back, although it was a slightly sad smile. The reason, she soon realized, was that she loved someone else as well. She loved Cullen just as much as she loved Solas.

     “We’re seriously in so much trouble”, she muttered and turned towards the camp, felt his arm slide across her shoulders again.

     “That we are, _vhenan_.”

     “Are you ever going to tell me what that new nickname means?”

     In the corner of her eye, she saw his lips pull up in another smile.

     “One day”, he promised, “I will.”

* * *

During their time at the meeting spot – which they reached two days after their battle at the old ritual tower – Lea became certain that everyone in their little camp had figured out what was going on between her and Solas. Dorian knew her far too well, the Iron Bull was trained to read every miniscule detail in people’s body language, Varric was extremely observant, and Stroud most likely figured it out thanks to everyone else doing the same. Or he might be just as observant as the others – she was not certain. What surprised her was that no one acted like it was something wrong. Not even Dorian approached her about the issue, had some stern talk with her about her possibly hurting Cullen’s feelings by also falling in love with Solas. Eventually, she asked her friend to ride to a nearby stream with her to collect water.

     “Do you know about me and Solas?” she asked him once they were away from the camp.

     “Of course I do”, Dorian scoffed. “I’m not blind.”

     “And… you’re not…”

     “Angry? Disappointed? Surprised? No.”

     He smiled a lopsided smile.

     “I don’t know how long you’ve known of Solas’ feelings for you”, he said, “but I’ve known of them longer.”

     “Since when?” she asked.

     “Oh, I think I started to notice it just before we went to Halamshiral”, Dorian replied. Lea blinked, stunned.

     “You mean at about the same time that me and Cullen became an item?” she asked.

     “Yes. I actually remember looking in his direction after I realized that you and Cullen had entered a relationship. He looked… resigned, at first, and then he covered it up with happiness.”

     He paused.

     “Solas is a man of many secrets”, he said. “I’m sure you know more of them than I do, but I knew that day that he loved you – and that he did not think himself to be the better choice for you. He wanted you to find happiness more than he wanted you to choose him.”

     Dorian then let out a small chuckle.

     “You should have seen his face when he saw you at Halamshiral, though”, he said. “I admire his restraint that day, for he looked very much like he wanted to pull you into the nearest bedroom and never let you leave again.”

     Lea felt her face turn red and looked away, but still managed to see her friend’s wide grin out of the corner of her eye.

     “I knew something had changed between you two when we met you outside Verchiel”, the Tevinter mage continued, “but, according to the Bull, you haven’t slept together yet.”

     “No, we haven’t”, Lea agreed.

     “Why?”

     “I… I think it’s because Solas still wants me to pick Cullen.”

     Dorian raised his eyebrows slightly.

     “That does not match what I see when he looks your way”, he said. “That elf’s mad about you, and if you two have actually made your feelings known to one another, I didn’t think thoughts of the Commander would stop him.”

     “He keeps saying he does not want to force me to choose”, she replied, “but, even now, I feel like I will have to. And I don’t want to hurt either of them.”

     “So don’t choose”, Dorian said. She turned to look at him with a frown.

     “How do you propose I do that?”

     “Invite them both to your bed.”

     Lea’s jaw dropped open, which made Dorian grin wickedly.

     “Oh, come now”, he said, “don’t tell me the thought hasn’t crossed your mind? You have two very good-looking men at your beck and call – and you have never thought what it might be like to have them both in your bed?”

     “No, it hasn’t”, she said, face turning red again.

     “Liar.”

     “It hasn’t!”

     Dorian kept grinning, then pressed his knees to his horse’s sides and trotted ahead to the gleaming stream, leaving her to try and calm her speeding heart and racing thoughts. Her friend’s suggestion was the most inappropriate one he had ever given her – and she hated that she seemed to be even considering it. Having something like that happen… she could not see that it would be fair to either Cullen or Solas. Instead it would only push the time when she had to make her choice up to another day. Until there was no way to avoid it anymore.

     _Never_ , she promised as she let her horse trot after Dorian’s. _I’ll find a way – without breaking either of their hearts._

* * *

The army arrived at the meeting spot five days after them, earlier than expected. It quickly became apparent why that had happened; they had left their supply carts behind, meaning every man now carried a pack with daily rations of food and water instead. There were no tents to put up, meaning they had spared time every night and morning as well, and more soldiers had been equipped with horses. Gaspard’s deed, no doubt. The Grand Duke had, as promised, also provided them with a battering ram, which was carried in pieces by six supply horses. Two dozen foot soldiers carried long ladders, provided by the same Grand Duke, and Lea believed all the soldiers had taken turns carrying them. She doubted Cullen would have let the same group do it the entire route to the edge of the Abyssal Reach.

     Cullen. Her heart tore to pieces again at the sight of him, when he wrapped his strong arms around him and felt herself relax, safe and warm. She loved him so much – yet she also loved Solas with the same ferocity. Her and the elven mage had not kissed, not touched in ways that were not appropriate for friends, not even met in the Fade since that night after the battle at the tower, yet every time she even glanced in his direction her whole body felt drawn to him. Like a magnet pulled to another magnet.

     But it was the same with Cullen. She had spotted him instantly, even though he, this time, had not ridden at the head of the army, but further back, leaving Cassandra to lead the Inquisition’s forces. She had wound her way through the dizzying array of horses and soldiers, never once walking in the wrong direction.

     It was as if her heart was the needle of a compass and it would always point to either Cullen or Solas. Or both of them.

     They used one of the tents their smaller scouting group had brought along to brief the rest of Lea’s Inner Circle on what they had found out at the ritual tower and quickly decided that they would only camp for one night at this spot. Early the next morning, they would set off towards Adamant Fortress, hoping with every fiber of their beings that they were not too late. If all went well, they would reach the place tomorrow night – and lay siege to the place.

     “A lot of good people will die”, Lea said, looking down at the map they had placed on the ground in the middle of the tent. “Without the supply carts, the healers who went ahead won’t be able to save everyone. We’ll have to leave some mages behind to help them.”

     “Our goal is to carve a path through the battlefield for you”, Cullen said to her left. “If Warden-Commander Clarel is still sensible, you can convince her to listen. To see the truth.”

     “The warriors may be willing to listen to reason”, Cassandra noted. “They are the ones being slaughtered for this ritual – and some might be willing to fight with us, not against us. The mages… they’ll be more difficult.”

     “Unless the Inquisitor gets to Clarel”, Hawke filled in, nodding. “We’ll help her through.”

     Lea looked around at the group in the tent.

     “It’ll be the riskiest mission we’ve done so far”, she said. “The fighting will be in close quarters, possibly against both demons and Wardens. I won’t ask or order anyone to go with me. It had to be a voluntary choice.”

     There was silence for a long time – and then everyone in the tent, other than Cullen, raised their hands.

     “We’ll go with you, boss”, the Iron Bull said. She stared at the group. Never before had she brought them all with her on a mission, preferring to leave a few behind in case something happened to her. Now, they all asked to go with her as she marched onto a deadly battlefield. Into a fortress full of enemies.

     She did the only thing she could think was appropriate; she placed her fisted right hand on top of her heart and bowed.

     “Thank you.”

     As they begun the siege of Adamant Fortress the next night, Lea, waiting for the battering ram to get the doors opened, watched as her forces, her brave soldiers, fought against the Grey Wardens positioned on the walls above them. They were pelted with rocks and arrows, the rain only pausing whenever a new ladder for the Inquisition was raised and soldiers climbed up to fight back the guards. Already the rocky terrain outside of Adamant was covered in blood and gore – and this was only the beginning. It would only get worse once the gate was torn down. Unless she got to Clarel and convinced her to stop. To order her people to stand down. To turn on Erimond, who was without a doubt hiding somewhere inside.

     So far there had been no sign of any demons on the walls – which Lea prayed meant Clarel still was not sure about Erimond’s ritual, but it could also mean that the demons and the mages were positioned further inside. As a last surprise to the attackers. Considering who they were up against, both options felt equally viable.

     As the battering ram hit the gate for the first time, Lea and her eleven followers started forward, shielded by both physical shields and the barriers of three mages. The battering ram hit the gate a second time when they were halfway to the gate, then a third, and on the fourth the gate opened inwards, the metal bent and crooked. Inquisition soldiers poured in just ahead of her and her group, taking down the Wardens who had been positioned just inside the gate, then pulling back, allowing them through.

     The first pair of mages and demons waited just beyond. It did not take much for them to get past those; the demons were Shades, vulnerable to just about anything, and the mages were not the most skilled. Lea had a sickening feeling that they had been cannon fodder. A way to delay them just a little bit longer.

     “Pull back! They’re through!”

     The shout came from atop the walls just after the last Shade dissolved into nothing.

     “More Shades incoming!” Varric warned, firing off a shot at a gate that had just opened, revealing a larger group of mages and demons. More cannon fodder.

     “We’ll keep them occupied”, Cullen said, having entered with the soldiers. “You get to Warden-Commander Clarel.”

     His golden eyes bore into hers, and even though she wanted to wrap her arms around him and kiss him goodbye, she only managed a terse nod.

     “I’ll be fine”, she said. “Just keep the men safe.”

     “We’ll do what we have to, Inquisitor”, Cullen replied, bowing his head slightly at her. The time for goodbyes was over.

     Getting through the old labyrinthine fortress took way more time than Lea would have liked. After every turn, every staircase, and behind every door, there were Wardens or demons or both waiting for them. The further inside they got, the stronger the demons were. By the time she could hear Clarel speaking inside the main courtyard, she had had her hair singed by a Rage demon and had received several cuts and bruises from multiple Pride demons. Sera was limping, supported by Blackwall, and Hawke had a black eye that he could hardly open. She knew Dorian had received a hard hit on the ribs and hoped he had either managed to heal himself or that the ribs were not broken. He was not limping, but that might be him not wanting to worry her further. Cole had disappeared every now and then to help others on the battlefield, which was to be expected, but the last time he had come back with blood smeared all over his left shoulder. He claimed he was fine, speaking no differently than he usually did, but Lea could not help but notice that he looked a little bit paler than usual.

     Still no one faltered. No one asked to stay behind when Hawke, Stroud and the Bull pushed the last door open, revealing the last, grand courtyard. It was filled with Wardens. Mages, mostly, but some warriors as well, surrounding a sickly green Fade rift. And up on a raised platform, which might have once held a statue of some sort, stood Warden-Commander Clarel and Livius Erimond. Clarel’s head was bent in sorrow, her gaze on something on the ground before her. A crumpled body. A sacrifice.

     “Stop them!” Erimond called. “We must complete the ritual!”

     The Wardens turned. Some of the warriors started forward, then stopped, hesitating. The mages looked readier to attack, just as Cassandra had warned. Lea squared her shoulders and took a step forward. When her companions attempted to follow, she raised a hand to stop them. They did, and she walked forward alone, not drawing her knives.

     “Clarel!” she called. The Warden-Commander looked up. She was older than Lea would have guessed, perhaps in her late fifties. Her head was shaved, her eyes somewhat slanted, and she looked down from where she stood with a face now transformed from sadness to dignity. A true leader. One who had herself been led astray.

     “If you complete that ritual”, Lea continued, “you’re doing exactly what Erimond wants!”

     “What, fighting the Blight?” Erimond called back. “Keeping the world safe from darkspawn? Who wouldn’t want that?”

     Clarel glanced in his direction, then back at Lea. Her face softened somewhat. Doubt. Was she doubting the Inquisitor’s words – or Erimond’s?

     “And yes”, Erimond continued, “the ritual requires blood sacrifice. Hate me for that if you must, but do not hate the Wardens for doing their duty!”

     “We make the sacrifices no one else will”, Clarel said, her voice ringing out loud and clear. “Our warriors die proudly for a world that will never thank them.”

     “And then your Tevinter ally binds the mages to Corypheus!” Stroud shouted behind Lea’s back. Clarel’s eyes widened.

     “Corypheus?” she said. “But… he’s dead.”

     “These people will say anything to shake your confidence, Clarel”, Erimond said, coming closer to the Warden-Commander. Clarel glanced at him, then turned away, pinching the bridge of her nose with two fingers and closing her eyes. The whole courtyard was quiet while the woman debated with herself.

     Then she dropped her hand and spoke.

     “Bring it through.”

     The Grey Warden mages turned towards the rift, raised their hands, and began to pull something out. Something big. The Anchor flared on Lea’s left hand, sending jolts of pain up her arm, but she somehow knew she could not do anything to close the rift while the mages were pouring their powers into it. She needed them to stop in order to do so.

     “Please!” Hawke called. “I have seen more than my share of blood magic! It is never worth the cost!”

     The Warden warriors took a few steps towards them, still hesitant. Several turned their heads to look at the rift, at what was being brought through. How many of their comrades had been sacrificed for this?

     “I trained half of you myself!” Stroud shouted. “Do not make me kill you to stop this madness!”

     Clarel did not speak. Instead, it was Erimond who spoke to her, with a hint of a smile on his face.

     “Be ready with the ritual, Clarel. This demon is truly worthy of your strength.”

     “Listen to me!” Lea shouted. “I have no quarrel with the Wardens! I have spared those I could! I don’t want to kill you – any of you – but you’re being used! And some of you…”

     She eyed the warriors, still debating if they should attack or not.

     “Some of you know it, don’t you?”

     One of the warriors, a dark-skinned man, soon stepped forward.

     “The mages who’ve done the ritual”, he said, “they’re not right. They were my friends, but now they’re like puppets on a string.”

     “You cannot let fear sway your mind, Warden Chernoff!” Clarel called.

     “He’s not afraid”, Hawke called back. “You are! You’re afraid that you ordered all these brave men and women to die for nothing!”

     “I honor your bravery, brothers and sisters”, Stroud said, “but this is not the way. You have been tricked!”

     One by one, the Grey Warden warriors turned to look up at Clarel. She looked down at them, doubt once again surfacing in her face.

     “Clarel”, Erimond hissed, “we have come so far. You’re the only one who can do this!”

     “Perhaps we could test the truth of these charges”, Clarel argued, “to avoid more bloodshed.”

     Erimond narrowed his eyes.

     “Or perhaps I should bring in a more reliable ally”, he snapped. Then he turned to look down at the rest of them and knocked the bottom of his staff into the stones at his feet three times.

     “I knew you would come here, Inquisitor”, he said, “and so did my Master. So he sent me this to welcome you!”

     There was a deafening roar above their heads, just before a large, black beast swooped into view. Lea felt her heart stopped. She had seen it before, many months ago, right after she had arrived in Thedas. It was the dragon that had attacked Haven. The one Cole claimed was, in fact, an archdemon.

     “Move!” she shouted at anyone who could hear her as the dragon swooped down, opened its mouth and shot its strange, red fire at the ground. The heat of it hit her face, but the flames never touched her. She doubted, however, that the dragon would let her get away twice.

     The beast circled the courtyard, knocking down one of the crumbling towers on the way, before landing on top of the wall surrounding it. It roared again, its small eyes peering down at Lea and her allies. Erimond stood with one hand raised in its direction. The moment he lowered it, the dragon would swoop down again. Of that, she was certain.

     Then, to her surprise, Erimond crumbled to the ground. The dragon – as well as everyone else in the courtyard – turned to look up at the raised platform again. Warden-Commander Clarel held an electric spell ready to fire in her hand. The second, Lea realized, as she had shot the first into Erimond’s back.

     “Clarel…” Erimond gasped, a warning in his tone. The Warden-Commander shot him a withering glare, before sending the electric bolt right at the dragon. It roared in pain, before shooting a salve of its strange fire at the older woman. She barely managed to avoid it – and by the time she got back up onto her feet, Erimond was fleeing and the dragon took off after him. Clarel turned towards the Wardens down below.

     “Help the Inquisitor!” she ordered. Then she ran after the fleeing magister, just as the rift opened up enough to let the demon that had been summoned through. This demon turned out to be the largest Pride demon Lea had ever seen. As it entered, the enslaved mages all changed as well – from humans to Shades.

     “We’ll fight with you!” the dark-skinned Warden who had spoken up previously called, drawing his sword. Lea nodded at him.

     “Take down the Shades”, she ordered. “Draw them away from the Pride demon. Avoid getting hit!”

     She glanced back at her companions. They all drew their weapons or prepared their spells, before joining her in rushing forward at the largest of the demons. It opened its mouth and laughed, summoning a large, electric whip that soon cracked through the air towards them. The Iron Bull howled, enraged at being hit, and Lea had to keep herself from pausing to check if he was alright. She wondered how Dorian coped with that urgency. During their time in the scouting party, she had seen just how close those two had gotten. This was no longer a mere fling.

     She dove between the Pride demons legs, swiping at it with her knives as she did. Cole did a similar maneuver, although he moved from place to place in the way spirits did – unseen until wishing to be seen.

     “You will not hurt my friends!” she heard him shout as he plunged his knife into the back of the demon’s shoulder. It howled and threw the frail looking boy into one of the nearby walls.

     “Cole!” Lea shouted, getting back up onto her feet. “Cole!”

     “I’m fine”, he said, appearing next to her momentarily before disappearing again.

     “You’re not… bloody hell!”

     She swiped at the demon again and felt Solas’ protective barrier surround her, keeping the demon’s next attack from hitting. The elf was suddenly right behind her, his hand briefly brushing her arm. It was enough to renew her strength reservoir, and as Shade after Shade dropped around them and the Wardens joined in the battle against the Pride demon, the fight was soon won. More bruises had been dealt and five of the Wardens had fallen, but Lea pushed that back. They had to keep going.

     “We have to get to Clarel and Erimond!” she shouted. “Wardens, join the Inquisition! They could use your aid in the battle!”

     “Yes, my lady!” one of the senior Wardens called back, but she had already turned, rushing in the direction Clarel had disappeared in. They ran up a set of stairs, then another, to a section at the back of Adamant Fortress that was mostly in ruins. Soon they ran in beneath an archway, out onto what might have once been a grand bridge across a deep ravine. Only the section nearest the castle remained, covering a distance of perhaps a hundred feet. Clarel and Erimond were near the far end of this remaining section, dueling viciously. The dragon swooped past them, but did not attack. Why, Lea did not know. Perhaps Erimond did not fully control it. Perhaps it was Corypheus doing it – and if Erimond turned out to be too weak for the Elder One, he would not waste his dragon on saving the magister. And even from a distance, Lea could see that, out of the two of them, Clarel was clearly the stronger mage. Her spells were better aimed, better controlled and more powerful, no matter how enraged she was at being tricked by the man she was dueling. She did not lose focus. One such powerful spell hit Erimond directly in the chest, sending him sprawling onto the ground. As he got back up onto his knees, Lea saw him spit out blood, but his mouth was pulled into a grin. The look on Clarel’s face showed that the Tevinter magister had said something that clearly enraged her even more – and in the next moment she had tossed him back halfway across the bridge with another spell. He groaned and curled up into a ball.

     “You…” he gasped out, now close enough for Lea to hear, “you could have served… a new god…”

     “I will _never_ serve the Blight!” Clarel growled, having stomped after him, like a predator stalking its wounded prey. She raised her staff, ready to deliver the final, decisive blow. In that moment the dragon dropped down and snapped its jaws around her body, then took off once more.

     “No!” Lea shouted, rushing forward. Erimond laughed a wheezing laugh. The dragon flew in a loop around them, landed on the battlements, and then threw Clarel onto the stone bridge. She was bloody, her legs and arms moving without coordination, and her head lolled to one side. But she was not yet dead. The dragon realized this and climbed – like the lizard it was – down from the battlements onto the bridge. Its eyes stuck on Lea – who suddenly realized she, in her rush to get to Clarel, had left her companions behind. She had not even noticed that they had not gone in beneath the archway until this very moment, when a dragon or archdemon or whatever it was stood between them. The dragon walked towards her and Clarel, who lay in between them. Clarel looked up, meeting Lea’s gaze, and then slowly managed to roll over onto her back.

     “In war, victory…” she gasped, as the bridge shook beneath the weight of the dragon, “in peace, vigilance…”

     She spread the fingers of her right hand and shot her last lightning bolt up at the dragon, just as it reached her. It roared and flipped onto the ground, the bridge seemingly tilting and causing it to slide forward. Lea jumped out of the way in the last moment and watched as the dragon fell into the chasm below, pulling Clarel’s body with it. With a start, she realized that there was no river in the depths below, or a dry, spiky ravine. Instead a band of gleaming green ran past the back of Adamant Fortress. The Abyssal Reach itself; a giant rift that had been there since the Second Blight.

     Just as she had realized this, the bridge seemed to tilt down towards this gleaming green band even further. The weight of the dragon had broken the supporters beneath them and now the bridge was collapsing. Scrambling back onto her feet, she ran towards the archway and saw that her companions had been heading towards her.

     “Run!” she shouted. She did not need to say that twice. Blackwall flung Erimond onto his shoulder and fled, along with Vivienne and Sera, who was still limping badly. Varric pulled Cassandra along, and the Bull did the same with Dorian. Cole was nowhere to be seen – perhaps he had gone somewhere else on the battlefield all of a sudden – and Solas…

     Solas was running towards her.

     She wanted to scream at him to turn around, especially since she felt the stones beneath her feet tilting more and more with each step, but she remembered Cullen’s words. Of all her companions, only Solas would refuse to follow her direct orders in situations like this.

     His arms closed around her just as the bridge gave way beneath her feet, causing them to drop. Somehow, they did not fall. A quick glance behind him revealed that Hawke had flung himself onto his stomach and was holding Solas by his ankles. Behind him was Stroud, and behind him, Cole, and then Dorian, who had somehow broken free of the Bull’s hold.

     For a moment, Lea actually dared to think that they would survive. That the bridge had stopped collapsing and her and Solas would be pulled up by their friends.

     Of course, that was only wishful thinking, and in the next moment the six of them dropped into the chasm below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy December 1st! Yes, this chapter became quite long, but I didn't want to split it up into two shorter chapters X) Hope you all enjoyed it! I can't promise that I'll finish another chapter this weekend as I'll be taking care of my parents' dog as well as doing some Christmas prep, but it might happen. Otherwise it will happen at the start of next week :)


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Ah…”_   
>  _She nearly missed her strike as the deep voice spoke in her head._   
>  _“We have a visitor”, it continued. She could hear the cunning smile in the way it spoke. After cutting into the wraith’s belly with her knife, she chanced a glance at Hawke, slashing at its neck. He seemed to hear the voice as well._   
>  _“A foolish little girl”, it continued, “comes to steal the fear I kindly lifted from her shoulders. You should have thanked me and left your fear where it lay, forgotten.”_

_The house was aflame._

_It was not the only house that was close to being nothing but ash and cinders, but it was the one that mattered the most. Home. She struggled to get up onto her feet, her arms and legs hardly managing to carry the weight of her body. It did not help that the air was mostly toxic smoke, making her cough with every inhale._

_There had been screams before, but they had stopped now. Screams that she knew. She also knew that they – the screamers – would have wanted her to run away from here. Get somewhere safe. But instead her legs moved towards the burning house. She shielded her face with her arm to keep the heat at bay as she looked in through one of the destroyed walls. Five corpses. They were no longer identifiable by looks; the fire had claimed almost everything already, making the air this close taste sickly sweet. But she still knew their names._

_Mum._

_Dad._

_Ashley._

_Christina._

_Sarah._

* * *

Lea opened her eyes with a gasp. It took her a moment to realize she was not seeing the ashen remains of her family back on Earth, that it had just been some realistic nightmare. Very realistic. She was still trembling as she turned her head and managed to take a look around. Where the hell was she?

     A groan from her left made her turn. There was no one there. Frowning, she got to her feet – and nearly bumped into Stroud, who stood on the side of a large rock pillar. As if his gravity was ninety degrees off from hers.

     “Where are we?” he grunted, rubbing the back of his head. He turned in the spot where he stood and noticed her, frowning in surprise when he realized what she had realized. That, wherever they were, the gravity was very strange.

     “We were falling...”

     That was Hawke. His voice came from right above Lea’s head – and it turned out his personal gravity was the opposite of hers. He looked her over once, then turned his gaze to something behind her. Turning, she saw Dorian, Solas and Cole all getting to their feet. Cole was breathing rapidly, his eyes wide beneath his hat.

     “No, no, no, no, no, no…”

     He ran past her, then back, flitting back and forth like a scared rabbit.

     “This is the Fade”, Solas said, coming up to stand next to her while she looked worriedly at Cole. “You opened a rift. We came through… and survived.”

     Unlike Cole, his eyes were filled with wonder. He shook his head slightly.

     “I never thought I would ever find myself here physically. Look, the Black City, almost close enough to touch…”

     He pointed to a twisted black shape in the distance. As he did, he seemed to notice Cole’s distressed behavior. It was unlike him to not see the spirit boy quicker.

     “Cole”, he said, “how does it feel to be back home?”

     Cole shook his head, his eyes flitting from one thing to another.

     “I… I… I can’t be here!” he exclaimed. “Not like this, not like me!”

     Solas frowned, then walked away from Lea to Cole.

     “It’s alright”, he assured the boy. “We’ll make it right.”

     “No”, Cole said, shaking his head, “this is wrong. This place is wrong. I made myself forget when I made myself real, but I know it wasn’t like this.”

     “I agree with the boy”, Hawke said from where he stood. “Something about this place does not feel as it should.”

     “The first time I entered the Fade”, Dorian said, taking Solas’ place by Lea’s side, “it looked like a lovely castle filled with gold and silks. I met a marvelous Desire demon, as I recall. We chatted and ate grapes before he attempted to possess me.”

     He paused, turning pensive.

     “Perhaps”, he said, “the difference is that we are here physically. This is no one’s dream.”

     “The stories say you came through the Breach”, Hawke said, looking down at Lea. “It led to the Fade, did it not? Was it like this?”

     “I don’t know”, she replied. “I have no memory of it. But whatever happened there, we can’t assume we’re safe now.”

     Hawke nodded.

     “That huge Pride demon was just on the other side of the rift the Warden mages opened – and there could be others.”

     “In our world”, Stroud said, “the rift the demon came through was nearby. In the main courtyard. Can we escape the same way?”

     Lea hesitated, then looked around for a sign of this rift. Turning back to face the Black City, she saw a glowing green halo above it. She knew that green glow anywhere. How could it be so far away here, though? It looked like it might take days for them to get there, especially with this rocky landscape.

     “It beats waiting around for demons to find us”, she said, nodding at it. “Let’s go. And Cole…”

     The pale boy looked at her, still trembling and fretting like a chased animal.

     “We’ll get you out of here”, she told him. “I promise.”

     He nodded slightly.

     “Thank you.”

     They started along what might go for a path, but in truth was nothing more but the part of their surroundings that was not covered in rocks and boulders. The air tasted slightly of sulfur and every now and then their path was crossed by narrow murky streams. Hawke and Stroud had managed to get down from their positions, so that their gravity seemed to be the same as everyone else’s, but all around them were things that had were either upside-down or floating in midair. There were also flakes of stone – or something else – floating up from the ground all around them, like leaves being pulled up in an invisible wind.

     “You know”, Dorian said as they crossed another stream, “my visits to the Fade are normally pleasant. I don’t usually wake up feeling the need to bathe.”

     “It’s so… different”, Lea said, looking at Solas. He still looked a little bit like a child on Christmas morning. She did not envy him, but she did worry. What if something happened here that forever marked him – marked them all – and made them fear this place? They all needed to sleep, but sleeping meant dreaming. Meant letting your mind drift to the Fade. When Solas dreamt – and let her join him – he was in control, or let her take control. Now they were about to experience the Fade as it was when neither of them was in control, and if something terrible happened… would they dare risk walking the Fade in dreams again?

     “The Fade is shaped by intent and emotion”, Solas now said. “Remain focused, and it will lead you to where you wish to go. I believe whatever demon that controls this area is extremely powerful. Judging by how the landscape has been formed, I’d say it’s a variety of a Fear demon.”

     Ice crawled along her spine and she felt her heartbeat start to pick up speed. Screams echoed in her head, the screams of her family burning to death inside their house, along with all of their neighbors in their houses. A Fear demon. She had never faced one before, but if they could create things like that, make her see things that she had trouble discerning if they were real or just realistic nightmares…

     “Lea?”

     Dorian, still walking next to her, touched her shoulder. She jumped in shock.

     “I’m alright”, she said. The Tevinter mage looked like he definitely did not believe that statement – and when she glanced at Solas, walking next to Cole, she saw that some of the wonder had gone from his face, replaced with concern. Lea quickly looked away from him and instead walked up a slope where uneven stairs seemed to have been cut out from the rock. On either side of them were gloomy lanterns that did nothing to brighten the place. In fact, they only made it look sadder – and more terrifying.

     At the top of the stairs, she turned and watched as the others climbed the slope as well. None of them seemed to be in pain from the cuts and bruises they had received at Adamant. She did not either. Perhaps whatever demon controlled this place had decided to heal them, to lull them into a false sense of security. Or perhaps it was just a side-effect of walking physically in the Fade.

     She turned forward again and let out a surprised yelp, reaching for her knives. Her companions were at her side at once, also reaching for their weapons, but, like her, pausing midway. In front of them stood an old woman dressed in the robes of the Chantry. Not just any Chantry-robes, though. These were the robes decorated in gold with the insignia of the Divine. And even though Lea had never seen this woman, she was quite certain she knew who she was.

     “By the Maker”, Stroud gasped, “could that be…”

     “I greet you, Warden”, the old woman said, her accent Orlesian, “and you, Champion.”

     “Divine Justinia?” Lea guessed with a frown. The woman gave her a small smile, which only confused her further.

     “I thought you were dead.”

     “I fear the Divine is indeed dead”, Stroud agreed, his voice heavy. “It is likely we face a spirit… or a demon.”

     _Is this the first test, then?_ Lea thought.

     “You think my survival impossible”, the woman said, “yet here you stand, alive in the Fade yourselves. In truth, proving my existence either way would require time we do not have.”

     “Surely you can understand our concerns and explain what you are”, Hawke argued.

     “I am here to help you”, the woman replied. There was something about her voice, a monotone quality that made her sound a bit like a recording. Or a robot. Neither existed in Thedas, though, but spirits and demons did. The woman turned her attention back towards Lea.

     “You do not remember what happened when you came to the world of Thedas, Inquisitor”, she said. Lea felt both Hawke and Stroud look at her in surprise. Neither had been told of her origin. Yes, they knew she had appeared through the Breach – everyone knew that – and that she was, most likely, from far away, but not that Thedas was not her home.

     “No”, she told the woman, “I don’t.”

     “The memories you have lost were taken by the demon that serves Corypheus”, was the woman’s reply. “It is the Nightmare. The one you forget upon waking. It feeds off memories of fear and darkness, growing fat upon the terror. The false Calling that terrified the Wardens into making such grave mistakes? Its work.”

     “I would gladly avenge the insult this Nightmare dealt my brethren”, Stroud muttered. The woman bowed her head gracefully.

     “You will have your chance, brave Warden.”

     She then gestured with her hand at their surroundings.

     “This place of darkness is its lair.”

     “Corypheus has far too many demons at his disposal”, Lea muttered, feeling shivers run up and down her arms as the nightmare she had had upon entering the Fade came back to her once more. Solas was suddenly right beside her, one hand touching the small of her back. The wonderous gaze was completely gone by now, replaced with worry. _Tell me what’s wrong_ , his eyes said. She did not. Instead she focused on the woman – the possible Divine Justinia – once more.

     “How does he command so many?” she asked.

     “I know not how he commands his army of demons”, the woman replied. “His power may come from the Blight itself. But the Nightmare serves willingly, for Corypheus has brought much terror to the world. He was one of the magisters who unleashed the First Blight upon the world, was he not?”

     “That he was”, Dorian muttered.

     “Every child’s cry as the archdemon circles”, the woman continued, “every dwarf’s whimper in the Deep Roads… the Nightmare has fed well. And, had you not stopped it, it would have fed more.

     “Was the Nightmare the demon Erimond wanted to bring through at Adamant?” Lea asked.

     “Yes.”

     “Then why did a Pride demon come through instead?”

     “Without Erimond there to focus the mages’ power, another demon was called forth.”

     “And the Nightmare”, Lea continued, “is it nearby?”

     “Yes.”

     Lea closed her eyes and drew a deep breath.

     “Since Varric isn’t here”, she said, “I’ll say it instead. Shit.”

     “We’ll do what we always do”, Dorian said. “Defeat the demon, then go back to Skyhold and celebrate.”

     “It won’t be that easy”, the woman cautioned. “Inquisitor, before you continued, you need your memories. The ones the Nightmare took from you as you walked between the worlds.”

     “Why do I need them?” Lea asked.

     “Because you need to know what awaits you.”

     She looked further down the path they stood on. Down the next slope, in a valley mostly covered by murky water, were four greenish wraiths. At first, they seemed to glide about aimlessly, but then Lea begun to see a pattern in their movements. They were patrolling, guarding something.

     “You need to know”, the woman said once more. Lea looked back at her friends.

     “I could…”

     “Not a chance”, Dorian interrupted. “We’ll help you.”

     She wanted to argue that it was better to do as she had wanted to suggest. That only she should fight the wraiths. But the way they all looked at her – including Cole, despite him still looking rather skittish – made her close her mouth and face forward again.

     “Let’s go.”

     Wraiths were both the easiest and the most difficult demons to fight. They were weak and their attacks rarely hurt too much, but they, in turn, hardly suffered at all when hit with a physical object. Fighting with swords or axes or knives or arrows meant prolonging the fight, while a mage could end it in an instant. As they headed down the slope, Lea therefore signaled to the others that she wanted Solas and Dorian to attack one wraith each, while she and Hawke fought a third and Cole and Stroud took down the fourth. No one argued. Instead they all took aim at their respective targets and attacked.

     As the wraith she and Hawke had been fighting dissolved, Lea knelt next to a strange, glowing orb that it had been guarding. Looking around, she saw three others scattered across the valley, near where the other three wraiths had been. Solas walked over to her and Hawke, kneeling as well.

     “It’s a piece of a memory”, he said, then gently took her left hand and touched it to the orb. It felt cold to the touch and, if Solas had not held her in place, she would have pulled back. Slowly the orb’s glow diminished, before the entire thing vanished. Lea frowned.

     “I don’t remember anything new”, she said.

     “They’re like pieces of a puzzle”, Solas replied, nodding at the other orbs. “Once you have them all, your mind will assemble the picture for you. Not before then.”

     She rose and walked over to the next orb, this time touching it and holding her hand in place without Solas being there.

     “This”, she said as the orb vanished and she rose to collect the third piece, “is the most boring mini-game I’ve played yet.”

     “Mini-game?” Dorian asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

     “One day, I’ll tell you”, she replied, before collecting the third piece. She hesitated as she knelt in front of the fourth one. So far, she had done pretty well without knowing how or why she had ended up here – or how she had received the Anchor on her hand. Could she not continue without knowing the truth? Sometimes the truth hurt.

     She shook her head. No. She needed to know – and no demon, or her own personal qualms, would make her step back now. Touching the orb with her hand, she collected the final piece of the memory.

     Pain exploded through her skull and she clutched it with both hands. She was quite certain she screamed, quite certain someone grabbed her arm to steady her… but then she blinked, and the Fade transformed. Instead of rocky terrain and sulfuric air, she saw herself walking along the road to her new workplace. There was a flash of green lightning and she screamed as a rift opened up right in front of her, and she was pulled through. But she did not end up in the Fade as she had expected. Instead, she tumbled onto the ground in a vast stone chamber decorated with Chantry banners. In front of her, in the center of the hall, were five Grey Warden mages. They were casting a joint spell at an old woman in the middle of their circle, which caused this woman – whom Lea now recognized as Divine Justinia – to hang suspended in midair. And standing just outside the circle… her past self gasped and crawled backwards on her hands as the creature turned slightly towards her, narrowing his eyes. Her present self felt terror seep into every bone in her body as well.

     Corypheus.

     He was holding the orb Solas had described to her as they fled Haven – the _foci_ – and it was emitting the same green glow that the Anchor produced. Now, however, this green glow was enveloping Divine Justinia and seemed to pull something from her. Like a dementor sucking out someone’s soul. As the orb did its work, Corypheus kept studying her past self, most likely trying to understand how she had ended up there and if she would be a threat. Before he had determined either of those things, however, the door next to Lea was flung open and Evelyn Trevelyan stepped inside.

     “What’s going on here?” she demanded to know. Corypheus turned more fully towards the two of them and, in that moment, Divine Justinia managed to break the Wardens’ spell enough to slap the orb from his grasp. It flew across the floor, continuing to glow green, and both Evelyn and Lea threw themselves at it. Their hands covered the orb and Lea heard her past self scream. As did Evelyn. They both screamed as the two parts of the Anchor were branded onto their hands. Corypheus roared, outraged, and flew at them…

     And the Fade returned. Lea blinked, then blinked again. She was kneeling on the ground, her hands still at her head, but now the pain went away. Solas was kneeling next to her, his right hand on her arm, his left on her back, most likely meant to keep her upright, but the way he looked at her made her think he had seen exactly what she had seen. Her memory.

     “So”, Stroud said, massaging his temple with one hand, “your mark did not come from Andraste. It came from the orb Corypheus used in his ritual.”

     Had they all seen her memory? Lea looked around at everyone who was there with her in the Fade. They all had the same stunned expression on their faces – and everyone seemed to have experienced headaches as the memory came to life. Slowly, she got to her feet, Solas still steadying her with a hand on her back.

     “Corypheus intended to rip open the Veil, use the Anchor to enter the Fade, and throw open the doors of the Black City.”

     That was Divine Justinia – or the spirit portraying her, which seemed more likely as she had appeared next to where they now were all of a sudden.

     “You were pulled through the Veil by an unknown force”, the woman continued, “and together with Evelyn Trevelyan, you disrupted his plan – and the orb bestowed the Anchor upon the two of you instead.”

     “I honestly never thought it was Andraste”, Lea said, “but I still don’t understand… why was it so important for me to regain that memory?”

     “It was not all the Nightmare took from you”, the woman replied. “Remember, you were in the Fade before – and did not escape until Evelyn Trevelyan closed the Breach. The Nightmare – and Corypheus – does not want you to learn all there is to know, and you will not escape this place until you’ve taken all of it back. As you have now recovered some of it, it will know you are here.”

     She looked troubled by this, then raised her hand and pointed along one of the paths ahead of them.

     “You must make haste. I will prepare the way ahead.”

     Then, she was gone. Lea looked at the spot where she had been standing, pursing her lips in thought, before turning towards her companions. Solas turned with her, keeping his hand on her back – and he did not meet her gaze when she tried to catch his. Something about what they had just seen troubled him greatly.

     “Those were Grey Wardens holding the Divine in that vision”, Hawke said, looking equally troubled. “Their actions led to her death.”

     “I assumed he had taken their minds”, Stroud replied, “as you have seen him do before.”

     Hawke did not look certain about this.

     “Come”, Stroud still said, taking a step towards his friend, “we can argue after we escape this dark place.”

     The Champion of Kirkwall nodded slowly.

     “Come on”, Lea said. “If the Nightmare now knows we’re here, we have to hurry. The sooner we get back to Adamant, the better.”

     “It’s nothing like me”, Cole said. “I make people forget to help them. It eats their fears. I… I don’t know if I could do that, but I don’t. I don’t want to. That’s not me.”

     “Peace, Cole”, Solas replied. “None of us mistake you for the Nightmare.”

     It was a statement as well as a command. Starting to doubt each other would do nothing good for them in this situation.

     “It is a Fear demon, as I suspected”, Solas continued as they began following the path Divine Justinia had pointed out for them. “It is likely drawing on terrors related to the Blight. Fear is a very old, very strong feeling. It predates love, pride, compassion… every emotion, save perhaps desire. Be wary. The Nightmare will do anything in its power to weaken our resolve.”

     No one replied.

     It was impossible to tell how long they had been walking – in time as well as distance – when they found a second group of wraiths, though these were not guarding any memory pieces. The area around them seemed to shift constantly, making something appear much closer and then, suddenly, much further away. While dividing her companions to take on the wraiths, Lea found herself praying that they were not heading in the wrong direction. There had been crossroads along their path, but she had always chosen to follow the ones with the gloomy lanterns. She hoped the spirit portraying Justinia would show up if she ever made a wrong turn.

     “Ah…”

     She nearly missed her strike as the deep voice spoke in her head.

     “We have a visitor”, it continued. She could hear the cunning smile in the way it spoke. After cutting into the wraith’s belly with her knife, she chanced a glance at Hawke, slashing at its neck. He seemed to hear the voice as well.

     “A foolish little girl”, it continued, “comes to steal the fear I kindly lifted from her shoulders. You should have thanked me and left your fear where it lay, forgotten.”

     The wraith was engulfed in flames as Dorian aimed a spell at it, having already finished up with his target. It dissolved between Lea and Hawke – as did the last one, which Cole and Stroud had been battling.

     “Do you think it will make you stronger?” the voice asked. “That the pain it brings you will make you grow? What fool filled your mind with such drivel? The only one who grows stronger from your fears… is me.”

     Solas’ hand brushed against her back again. Other than now, when they had been fighting wraiths, he had not removed it since she had regained the first glimpses of what the Nightmare had stolen from her. He had also had trouble meeting her gaze. Whatever was troubling him, it was not something he wished to discuss with the rest of their group. Which most likely meant it had to do with his past. She would have to ask him later, when they found some time alone.

     “But you are a guest here, in my home”, the voice – the Nightmare – continued, “so, by all means, let me return what you have forgotten.”

     Out of the corner of her eye, Lea saw something slithering towards them. It did not seem to have any distinct shape – rather, it was a shadow. A massive shadow that crawled through the Fade, engulfing everything in its path. It already had them surrounded. Lea reached out and grabbed Cole, pulling him back from the shadow as he was the only one frozen in terror at the sight of it.

     “Remember what’s real”, she told him and the others as the circle they stood in grew smaller and smaller. “Remember the truth. Remember…”

     Darkness closed over her head. Solas’ hand disappeared from her back, Cole’s arm from her grasp. The air grew thick and she coughed, dropping to her knees. Her eyes stung. Fire. Something was burning. Her house. Her family. She forced her eyes open and watched the inferno in front of her. All the houses along the road where she had grown up were nothing but ash and cinders.

     “My Master wants me to bring you to him.”

     She spun around on the ground. Dorian was standing over her, his face expressionless, his eyes glowing slightly red. He raised his hand and Lea felt herself pulled to her feet. No, to the air. He held her suspended in the air in front of him.

     “Dorian”, she gasped, trying to break through his spell. “Dorian, it’s me!”

     It was as if he had not heard her. There was no reaction to hearing his name, or to her voice – not to anything. He simply turned, with her hanging in the air in front of him, and started to walk down the road. In the distance she saw a tear in the sky. The Breach. But now it was here on Earth, not in Thedas.

     Corypheus had won.

     “He will not!”

     Something slammed into her and sent her crashing to the ground. She coughed and blinked several times until the vision of her home burning and Dorian possessed went away, replaced with the rocky version of the Fade. Dorian – the real Dorian – pushed up and away from her, and she found herself trying to avoid him.

     “You…”

     “I thought you told all of us to remember what was real”, he said. She dropped her head back to the stones, breathing hard. A dream. A nightmare. A trick.

     “You saw?” she asked.

     “No”, Dorian replied. “I don’t think any of us saw what someone else saw.”

     He looked around. Everybody else seemed to be coming back around as well, shaking off the remains of whatever horrible things they had seen. Had she been the only one who had not been able to fight it on her own?

     “Solas had to yank me out of it”, Dorian said, answering her unspoken question, “and Hawke, Stroud, Cole… all of us. He asked me to help you. Cole was quite upset.”

     “Is everyone alright?” Lea asked, slowly sitting up. She grimaced at the sudden pain in her back – which made Dorian wince as well.

     “Everyone’s alright”, he assured her, “but when I tried to bring you out of whatever you were seeing… all you said was that Corypheus had won. You just stood there, whispering it. Quite scary, actually. I tried to shake you awake, tried to talk to you… in the end I saw no other way around it but to knock you down. And you looked terrified when you saw that it was me. What did I do?”

     “Corypheus possessed you”, she replied, pushing her hair back, “and he sent you to capture me. On Earth.”

     Dorian opened his mouth, then closed it again.

     “If I ever try to do that”, he said, “you have my permission to strike me down.”

     Then he helped her up onto her feet. Stroud and Hawke came over to them, Hawke looking a little paler than usual. She decided not to ask what he had seen. Further away stood Cole and Solas. Cole was fretting, mumbling incoherently and pacing back and forth, while Solas patiently tried to calm him down. It took another minute or two before they made it back to the rest of them. Solas’ gaze stuck on Lea at once and he lengthened his stride. She was surprised when he wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace. Hugging her among people was not something he did often. In fact, it was a very, very rare thing.

     “Are you alright?” he murmured. She nodded into his shoulder and he slowly let go of her.

     “It was too easy”, he then said. “Fighting back against these visions… it took too little.”

     “You think there will be more?” Dorian asked.

     “Yes”, Solas replied. “This was the first part of our fears. The Nightmare won’t be satisfied until he has shown us all there is to show – until it has us all utterly terrified.”

     “Another good reason for getting away this place quickly”, Lea said, nodding at the path ahead of them. “Come on.”

     They managed to ascend a set of uneven stairs before the Nightmare spoke to them again.

     “Perhaps _I_ should be afraid”, it said, “facing the most powerful members of the Inquisition.”

     It paused for a laugh.

     “Are you afraid, Cole?” it then asked. “I can help you forget. Just like you help other people. We’re so very much alike, you and I.”

     “No”, Cole replied, shaking his head violently. The Nightmare chuckled again, and was quiet for some time as they continued on along the path. Then it spoke again.

     “ _Dirth ma, harellan. Ma banal enasalin. Mar solas ena mar din._ ”

     Solas gritted his teeth slightly where he walked next to Lea, his hand still on her back.

     “ _Banal nadas_ ”, he said. She knew too few of those words to understand the exchange, but she knew whatever the Nightmare had said annoyed Solas to no end. It knew as well, she was certain.

     “Greetings, Dorian”, it said a short while later. “It is Dorian, isn’t it? For a moment, I mistook you for your father.”

     Dorian huffed.

     “That’s rather uncalled for.”

     They were walking down again, into a flooded valley, and were knee-deep in murky water when it decided to taunt the next member of their party.

     “Warden Stroud. How must it feel to devote your whole life to the Wardens – only to watch them fall? Or, worse, to know that you were responsible for their destruction? When the next Blight comes, will they curse your name?

     “With the Maker’s blessing”, Stroud muttered, “we will end this wretched beast.”

     They continued down, found another group of wraiths and fended them off, and then descended once again. The Nightmare was quiet for so long they almost started to believe it had forgotten about them. Then, as Lea stepped off the stairs, it spoke to Hawke.

     “Did you think you mattered, Hawke?” it asked. “Did you think anything you ever did mattered? You couldn’t even save your city. How could you expect to strike down a god? Fenris is going to die, just like your family, and everyone you ever cared about.”

     “Well”, Hawke said, “that’s going to grow tiresome quickly.”

     “What, the taunting?” Dorian asked. “I’m not sure what you expected. Of course it wants to bring our fears to light throughout this wonderous journey – not only when that blasted shadow comes creeping.”

     Lea turned the corner of the path and saw, to her relief, the spirit portraying Divine Justinia standing further ahead. She had decided to look at the places where she met them as checkpoints. A way to keep track of if they were going the right way or not.

     “The Nightmare is closer”, the woman said as they neared. “It knows you seek escape. With each moment, it grows stronger.”

     More wraiths waited for them in the next valley – and this time there were memory pieces as well.

     “Same method?” Stroud asked. Lea nodded.

     “Let’s go.”

     They worked like a well-oiled machine, putting down one wraith after the other. As she started to collect the pieces of memory, Lea wondered why there were just wraiths. Someone like the Nightmare – a powerful demon – should be able to send other, more powerful ones to threaten them. Wraiths did not even scare her. They were simply annoying.

     “Brace yourselves”, she told the others as she reached out for the final piece. As the orb slowly began to dim, she closed her eyes and braced for the pain.

     The moment the pain ended, she blinked and looked around. At first, she thought nothing had happened. The Fade looked the same. Then her past self, Evelyn and Divine Justinia ran past her. After them came a horde of demons.

     She remembered now. She remembered how everything had exploded just as Corypheus had thrown himself at her and Evelyn – and how they and Divine Justinia had woken up in the Fade. Evelyn, the voice of reason, had explained what needed to be explained to her – and then they had begun the trek to what they had guessed was a gateway back to Thedas. The Breach. Soon after they had started this journey, however, the demons had come after them. Hiding from them had not been an option, so they had run. Now they were nearly there. The Breach was just in front of them. Evelyn, the tallest of them, reached it first, Lea not far behind her. Then Divine Justinia screamed, making them both turn around. The demons had reached the older woman and were pulling her back.

     “Go”, she begged them. Evelyn and Lea shared a glance – and then Lea grabbed a rock from the ground and flung it at the nearest demon. Then the next one received the same treatment.

     “Run!” she shouted at Evelyn. This time, Evelyn followed the order and jumped through the rift. Back to Thedas. And as she did, the Divine dissolved, consumed by the demons. Lea kept pelting them with rocks, forcing them back, keeping them away from the Breach. She begun to grow tired. Her aim was off. After who knew how long, she slumped down onto the ground, her body trembling with exhaustion. Her present self remembered thinking that it might be better if the demons just claimed her.

     And then a bright, golden light appeared in front of her eyes, placing itself between her and the demons. They screeched and scrambled back and the light – the spirit – turned. It pulled Lea to her feet.

     “They still need you”, it said, in the same voice as Divine Justinia. “Go.”

     It let go and Lea stumbled back, through the Breach, landing in the ruins of the Temple of Sacred Ashes weeks after Evelyn had. Just as Evelyn – the Herald of Andraste – managed to close it for good. Lea’s past self lay on the ground where the rift had been, struggling to stay awake. A man ran up to her, knelt next to her. Solas. He turned her over onto her back and she screamed in pain. His fingers brushed over her face, soothing her, before his eyes drifted to her left hand. To the glowing, green mark.

     “She has a mark as well!” he called.

     “What?”

     That was Cassandra, standing next to a kneeling Evelyn.

     “How is that possible?” the Seeker asked, eyes wide.

     “I don’t know”, Solas replied, turning back to look at her. His fingers now found her unmarked hand – and, to her present self’s surprise, hers curled around his. He pulled his back, frowning.

     “Herald”, he called, looking at Evelyn, “what say you?”

     Evelyn looked at Lea thoughtfully – but not in the way someone looked when they saw someone they recognized. She had forgotten what had happened to them in the Fade, just like Lea had.

     “Bring her with us to Haven”, she said. “She needs a healer.”

     Lea blinked and the memory faded away. She rose and turned to look at the spirit portraying the Divine.

     “It was you”, she breathed. “You sent me away from the Fade… right before Evelyn closed the Breach, not knowing I was still here. Not _remembering_ I was here. And the Divine… she died.”

     The woman bowed her head, looking sad.

     “Yes”, she said. “I am sorry if I disappoint you.”

     Then she transformed, from Divine Justinia into the golden spirit that had sent Lea from the Fade. The one that had driven the demons away long enough for her to leave. It still looked somewhat human – and its head shape reminded Lea of the Divine’s headpiece.

     “Are you a memory of the Divine?” she asked. “A reflection?”

     “If that is the story you wish to tell, it is not a bad one”, the spirit replied, still speaking with Justinia’s voice.

     “What we do know is that the mortal Divine perished at the temple”, Hawke said bitterly, “thanks to the Grey Wardens.”

     Lea turned around and saw Stroud glare at Hawke – who glared back.

     “As I said”, Stroud snapped, “the Grey Wardens responsible for that crime were under the control of Corypheus. And we can discuss this further once we return to Adamant.”

     “Yes, Adamant”, Hawke growled, “where the Inquisition faces an army of demons raised by the _Wardens_.”

     “How dare you judge us?” Stroud roared. “You tore Kirkwall apart and started the mage rebellion!”

     “To protect innocent mages like my sister, not madmen drunk on blood magic!”

     Hawke marched forward until him and Stroud were practically nose to nose, spit flying with every word he spoke.

     “But you’d ignore that”, he growled, “because you can’t imagine a world without the Wardens – even if that’s what we need!”

     “Agreed”, Solas said solemnly. “The Wardens may once have served a greater good, but they are far too dangerous now.”

     “They might still be useful”, Dorian argued. “What if Corypheus conjures another Blight? You never know.”

     “The blood sings softly, it never stops”, Cole murmured, “and then it’s all they hear. We can’t let them hurt more people.”

     Lea groaned and massaged her temples.

     “Jesus bloody Christ, everyone, shut the hell up!”

     They all turned towards her. Then Stroud and Hawke sheepishly stepped back from one another.

     “We can argue about the Wardens’ to be or not to be dilemma once we’ve escaped from the giant Fear demon”, she continued. “Before that, I need all of you focused. Is that clear?”

     “Yes, Inquisitor”, both Stroud and Hawke mumbled. Lea let her eyes drift to Solas, Dorian and Cole.

     “Is that clear?” she repeated.

     “Yes”, Cole said. Dorian and Solas simply nodded. Then Hawke drew in a sharp breath.

     “Inquisitor!”

     She spun around, just as the creeping, crawling shadow of the Nightmare’s visions crept over her, engulfing her once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this turned into another long chapter X) At first I thought about writing everything that happened in the Fade at once, but then I decided to split it. Hopefully you all liked the lost memory segments! I know you don't really find out why Lea's ended up in Thedas, but that's coming... eventually.  
> Also, if you want to read more of my stuff, I just posted another DA story called _Once Upon a December_ , which I am actually going to try to post something for every day up to Christmas. Can't promise that I'll be able to do this, but I'll definitely try!


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He rose from the throne and walked down from the dais, towering over her. She refused to step away, which seemed to amuse him even further. He pinched her chin between a pair of clawed fingers._   
>  _“Your world is weak”, he said, “and by the end of tonight, it will be gone. Destroyed by my army. All that remains will be you, Inquisitor, as I will take my leave – along with a few new soldiers – and enter the Fade once more.”_   
>  _He looked back at the seven people on the dais. Her friends. His slaves._   
>  _“I shall take my place on the throne of the gods – and your friends will be ever so helpful.”_

Dorian marched her along the street, through the blaze of burning houses and the final screams of dying people. He did not speak. That was the scariest part; that he was so far under Corypheus’ control that he could no longer lighten the mood with a sarcastic comment or two. A sure sign her friend was gone.

     She did not try to engage him in conversation. Instead she used the time to try and organize her memories. She remembered Adamant and falling into the Fade, facing the Nightmare demon – and finding out that the whole affair at Adamant had been a way to draw the Inquisition away from where Corypheus was. Where he planned on opening his own gateway to the Fade.

     After escaping the demon, the Inquisition had ridden back to the Frostback Mountains, back to Skyhold, and found it destroyed. Leliana and Josephine’s corpses had been on the stairs outside the gate – and Corypheus’ new Breach in the ruins of the great hall. She had not hesitated, had not waited for everyone else to catch up. Instead she had thrown herself into the Breach, back into the Fade. By the time she had fought her way past demons and wraiths, she was bleeding from far too many cuts, had far too many bruises, should have collapsed there and then, but instead she had stumbled upon another Breach. An exit.

     And it had led here, to Earth.

     Since Dorian was here as well, him and the others must have followed her into the Fade, but exited somewhere else. Somewhere where Corypheus had caught them. He had most likely taken control of Dorian because Dorian was a mage. Did that mean Vivienne and Solas… had he done the same to them?

     And what of the others?

     _It’s not real!_

The scream made her twitch and turn her head to look at Dorian. That had been his voice. But he did not look like he had just spoken – or screamed in panic. In desperation. She frowned.

     Not real.

     Her mind drifted back to Adamant. To the Fade and the Nightmare demon. The black, slithering shadow.

     Not real.

     In an instant, her mind cleared. It was a vision. A trap. A continuation of her worst nightmare. And she had to escape it.

     But how?

     “Master.”

     Dorian’s hollow voice drew her out of her thoughts again, making her blink and look around. At some point they had walked into a grand house – one that she soon recognized. She had been here several times as a child, on school trips.

     The Palace of Westminster.

     The Nightmare had apparently given up on tricking her; walking from her parents’ street to Westminster in London would have taken days, possibly weeks, not what she felt was less than an hour. But, regardless of her knowing it was a trick, it all felt very real, and the false memories still pressed on her mind, tried to make her fall for them again.

     She pressed them back and instead focused on the changes to the room they were in – the Lords Chamber. The red benches and chairs were gone. The blue carpet on the floor and the wood panels on the walls were speckled with dark, dried blood. There were no electric lights turned on; instead the room was illuminated by icy white globes, floating along the railing surrounding the upper gallery. Or what remained of said railing.

     The only thing that appeared clean and whole in the room was the golden dais with its golden throne – but, at the same time, it was also the most defiled object. Because on the throne was not Queen Elizabeth, but Corypheus. And standing on either side of him were the people he had chosen as his honor guard.

     People he had taken control of.

     It was difficult not to scream, despite knowing it was not real. How could she not when she had to look at the expressionless faces of the people she knew and cared so much about. Solas on Corypheus’ left. Vivienne next to him. Cole – or what she thought had once been Cole – next to Vivienne. Cullen to Corypheus’ right, then Cassandra and the Bull.

     There were too many people missing. Had they been killed? Or were they kept somewhere else, as guards all over the Palace of Westminster, in case she escaped from here? Would she have to kill them?

     Not. Real.

     She had to think the words a dozen times to make herself calm down. Make herself remember the truth.

     Just then, Dorian unceremoniously dropped her onto the ground. She had been far higher up than she had estimated – and she heard the crack in her left wrist as it shattered. Pain shot through her arm, made her scream… and then she realized the Anchor did not glow. The scar on her palm that always seemed to emit a faint glow was dull and bleak. As if dead.

     Corypheus chuckled.

     “I believe this used to be your home, Inquisitor”, he said, his clawed fingers tapping on the armrests of the golden throne. “How do you like my improvements?”

     Cradling her broken wrist, she rose from the ground, shut the pain away and glared at him.

     “I must say”, she said, “that gold is not your colour. Makes you look dead.”

     Her Dorian would have laughed at that. The Dorian who now stepped up to stand next to Cole did not. Neither did Corypheus.

     “I do not intend to stay long”, he said, “just long enough to prove a point.”

     He rose from the throne and walked down from the dais, towering over her. She refused to step away, which seemed to amuse him even further. He pinched her chin between a pair of clawed fingers.

     “Your world is weak”, he said, “and by the end of tonight, it will be gone. Destroyed by my army. All that remains will be you, Inquisitor, as I will take my leave – along with a few new soldiers – and enter the Fade once more.”

     He looked back at the seven people on the dais. Her friends. His slaves.

     “I shall take my place on the throne of the gods – and your friends will be ever so helpful.”

     _All he does is voicing your deepest fears._

Solas. The one on the dais had not moved, but she heard his voice in her head none the less. Reminding her that none of this was real. It was a nightmare.

     _Wake up_ , she thought to herself, just like Solas had said to her many times as they were in the Fade. Nothing changed – other than the fact that a grin spread on Corypheus’ face. It did not suit him.

     “You won’t”, he said. Or, rather, the Nightmare said. He let go of her chin and walked back up onto the dais, seating himself on the throne once more.

     “Have you not realized it yet, Inquisitor?” he asked. “You are in my domain. My kingdom. Here you follow my rules. And I am not done playing with you and your mind just yet.”

     Before she could react, a cold arm wrapped around her, pinning her arms to her sides, and she crashed into an equally cold body. Icy fingers trailed along the left side of her throat, sensing her rapidly increasing pulse.

     Cole was no longer on the dais.

     “Trapped”, the boy whispered in her ear, an uncharacteristic smirk in his voice, “caught, a rabbit chased down by hunters, off with their heads…”

     “Isn’t he wonderful?” the Nightmare as Corypheus asked. “If I did as you humans do and decided to teach someone to be like me, he would be my first choice. Alas, if I did that, he might accidentally kill me.”

     She did not reply – nor did she listen that intently to what Cole was saying. Although she tried to look like she was. Tried to make it seem like the phrases he now said were terrifying her when, in reality, he was now rattling off quote after quote from _Alice in Wonderland_. She had hated that book as a child, hated that they had to read it in school – three times – but it seemed to have saved her from hearing other horrible things. Instead Cole was muttering about hatters and hares and tea.

     Then he stopped.

     “Why is a raven like a writing desk?” he asked, louder than before. The Nightmare frowned up on his throne.

     “What?”

     “Why is a raven like a writing desk?” Cole asked again. The smirk was gone from his voice. Instead it was layered in confusion.

     “Why is a raven like a writing desk?” he said a third time. The Nightmare glared at him, then at her. She was grinning – and then she stomped hard on Cole’s foot. He might not have been human, but he was solid flesh, and he still felt pain – which meant he released her with a yelp and gave her the opportunity to spin around and punch him in the face.

     He dropped to the ground, making her wince. She had to remind herself once again that this was not the real Cole. Just a trick.

     “It isn’t real”, she said, turning back towards the dais. “Try as you like, Nightmare; I won’t simply fall for your little trick again. I’ll fight back with everything I have.”

     The Nightmare’s claws scraped against the throne and the room seemed to darken – and then he leaned back and laughed.

     “You will keep me entertained for quite some time, it seems”, he said. “Have it your way, then.”

     He waved his right hand and everyone else on the dais walked forward. A door opened behind the golden throne and the remainder of her friends marched in as well. Hawke, Stroud, Varric, Blackwall and Sera. She frowned as they split up into groups of two or three throughout the room, then looked back up at the Nightmare. He was still smirking.

     “You took her from me!”                                                                                               

     Cullen’s enraged shout made her spin around. His face – expressionless just moments before – was twisted in fury. He had drawn his sword and seemed poised to attack the man in front of him. Solas.

     The elf snarled.

     “Took her?” he said. “You, _Commander_ , tried to claim what was rightfully mine.”

     She stared at them as they began to circle each other – and then heard the shouts and yells coming from other groups scattered throughout the room. Turning, she saw Stroud and Hawke already engaged in battle, their swords clanging together hard enough to make her jump. Sera seemed intent on using Vivienne as target practice – and was aided by Blackwall. Cassandra was shielding herself from Varric’s arrows, and Dorian was firing spells at the Bull, who was laughing like a madman before charging towards his lover, eyes blazing with hate.

     Her eyes widened as she realized what the Nightmare was doing.

     “You can’t save them all, Inquisitor”, he said upon his throne, grinning at her. “Choose.”

     He had seen through her again. No matter her escape from Cole before, by punching him and stomping on his foot, she had not intended to kill him. She doubted she would have been able to do that to even an illusion of him. Now, throughout the room, people were fighting to the death – and she would be unable to save all of them. She would have to watch some of them die.

     A part of her reasoned that, if she wanted to beat the Nightmare, all she had to do was stand there and watch. Act as if all the fighting around her did not matter.

     But how could she live with that choice?

     How could she return back to her real life, look some of these people in the eye and tell them she had refused to save them?

     Sure, they might understand. They might realize that she had only done it because, if she had not, she would have been trapped here forever. And it had not been the real versions of them. But to her it would feel real. Despite telling herself this was a nightmare, it felt real. It would still feel real. And she would have to live with this very real choice.

     She was moving before she even realized she was, spinning around towards Cullen and Solas, running towards them. Behind her, the Nightmare laughed – and Solas sent a spell straight at Cullen’s chest.

     The Commander flew back into the wall. Something cracked. She screamed, thinking it was his spine. His neck. His head. But Cullen shook himself and rose, came back at Solas and revealed that only the wood panel had taken visible damage.

     “Stop!” she shouted at the two of them as they started to circle again, as Cullen lunged at the elf. “Stop this!”

     Solas deflected Cullen’s sword with a barrier.

     “Stop?” he asked. “He claimed you before I ever could. Took what was mine. What belonged to me.”

     “I belong to no one, you blasted fool!” she shouted back at him. He levelled his eyes on her, glowing faintly red, reminding her that he was possessed – and not real.

     “You belong to me.”

     Cullen roared and threw himself at Solas. There was no time for the elf to put up a barrier, no matter his skill. She screamed again.

     Cullen’s sword clanged against another. A twin to his own. Her scream died and she clasped her healthy hand over her mouth in shock as another Cullen – _her_ Cullen – appeared out of nowhere and tossed his copy back. The fake Solas seemed surprised – an expression that certainly did not vanish when another Solas appeared and tossed him aside as well. _Her_ Solas.

     How could they be here? How could _both_ of them be here?

     “How?” the Nightmare boomed from his throne. All other fights had stopped throughout the room and people had turned towards them, once again expressionless, despite bleeding from cuts or having arms that looked crushed.

     “Commander”, Solas said. The tone of his voice implied that he did not need to say anything else. That Cullen already knew what he had to do. As if they had had time to plan. She looked from one to the other, trying to gauge what this plan of theirs was – and then Cullen wrapped his arms around her, crushing her to his chest. Slender fingers came to rest below his on her back. She turned to look behind her, confirmed that it was _her_ Solas, and then watched as he placed his free hand on Cullen’s arm. The two men locked gazes above her and suddenly her vision filled with white light. She screamed as pain tore through her head, as the Nightmare roared with fury in the distance.

     _Almost there, vhenan_ , Solas said in her head, his voice raspy. She realized he was exhausted. That whatever him and Cullen were doing was dangerous.

And then she smelled flowers. Felt a soft breeze on her skin. Sunlight.

     The forest glade.

     Solas’ hand dropped from her back just as she opened her eyes and turned to look at him. The elf stumbled back, sickly pale. Cullen, in front of her, swore and let her go in order to catch Solas before he crumpled to the ground. She stared at the two of them.

     “What… how… what…”

     There were too many questions. Too much she did not understand. Cullen lowered Solas to the ground, placed a hand on the elf’s left shoulder – and Solas lifted his own trembling right hand and placed it on top of Cullen’s. As if saying he would be alright.

     “I was at Adamant”, the Commander slowly said, looking up at her, “and then I was here. Solas explained what had happened to you. That you needed help.”

     He rose, letting go of Solas to instead brush the same hand against her face.

     “Are you alright?” he asked. She swallowed. She was still a mess of feelings. Of thoughts. Questions. Memories that were both fake and real.

     “No”, she admitted, her voice barely audible. He let out a slight breath, then pulled her against him again, gentler this time.

     “Lea”, he whispered against her hair, kissing the top of her head. “Lea.”

     That, if anything, grounded her. Settled her racing pulse. Allowed her to accept that she was out of danger, for now.

     Her name, coming from him.

     Eventually she nodded against his chest and he let her go, let her kneel down next to Solas. The mage’s breath was still raspy and his skin several shades too pale – and she dreaded to think what his physical body looked like if this was how he appeared to them here. She reached out and touched his cheek, at the same time realizing her left wrist appeared fine. Another trick of the Nightmare – but one she did not quite understand.

     “Dorian is helping”, Solas murmured, turning his head slightly so that her palm cradled his cheek. He opened his eyes to look at her. They were bloodshot and conveyed just how exhausted he was. Cullen knelt on the opposite side of him, his forehead creased with worry.

     “You said this would not be dangerous”, he said.

     “Not for her”, Solas replied.

     “I’d rather it had not been for any of us.”

     Now it was Solas who frowned and turned his head to look at Cullen. The Commander sighed and shook his head slightly.

     “We lost too many today, Solas”, he said, “and until you pulled me to this place, I thought… we all thought…”

     “People think we’re dead”, Lea whispered. Cullen nodded, not meeting either of their gazes.

     “I’d rather not return to Adamant only to confirm it.”

     Solas looked at him in utter confusion, while Lea suddenly felt as if several pieces of the puzzle in her head were falling into place. As if the picture – the whole picture – was appearing in front of her.

     “What happens now?” she asked, looking from one of them to the other.

     “I’ll send the Commander back to Adamant”, Solas replied, tearing his gaze from Cullen and smoothing out his frown, “and you and I will return to the Fade.”

     “Is the Nightmare gone?”

     “No.”

     Her heart sank.

     “But I do not think he’ll be able to use that trick again”, Solas continued, “on any of us. He’s been weakened. It should give us a better chance at escaping.”

     “I’ll keep the area around the rift clear”, Cullen said. “Don’t leave us waiting for too long. It has already been hours since the battle.”

     Hours. It felt like it had been days. Cullen gave her a small smile and brushed his knuckles against her cheek again, then placed his other hand on Solas’ shoulder. Like he had before.

     And then he was gone.

     Solas was the one staring at where the Commander had been moments ago, even though he was the one who had sent him away. The frown was back on his forehead – and it only deepened when he turned his head and saw that she was smiling.

     “What is that for?” he asked.

     “Spoilers”, she replied, leaning forward to brush a kiss against his forehead. He was still frowning when she pulled back. Then he sighed and the forest around them faded.

     “Well, look who’s awake.”

     Lea blinked and grimaced as she took in the foul smell – and the nasty headache she realized she had.

     “How long was I out?” she asked, her voice raspy, her mouth dry. Someone handed her a water skin. Hawke.

     “A few hours”, he said. He looked relieved. She downed two mouthfuls of water before handing the water skin back to him and looking around.

     They were not where she had last remembered being, where she had recovered the last bits of her memory of how she had come to Thedas. There was shallow, dark lake not far from their small campsite – and beyond it a vast desert. An unforgiving sun was bearing down on the desert, but the place where they were – beyond the edge – felt cold. Almost too cold. Her friends huddled around a campfire, conjured by magic, and she slowly sat up to see them more clearly. Hawke was to her right, then Cole, then Stroud, Dorian, and Solas to her left. He was leaning back against a rock, looking just as pale here as he had in the forest, but he offered her a weak smile and let his fingers take hold of hers. On the other side of him, Dorian looked somewhat pale as well. Solas had said something about the Tevinter mage helping him. By the looks of it, Dorian had given the elf some of his strength, in order to get her out of the Nightmare’s grasp.

     “Where are we?” she asked, her voice still raspy.

     “A pocket of safety”, Dorian replied. She nearly cried at hearing his voice, at the way he sounded upbeat when he really was not.

     “It is the only place we have found so far that the Nightmare’s power does not touch”, he continued. “A perfect location for conducting a dangerous rescue mission.”

     He gave her a lopsided grin.

     “You look better than either of us”, he noted, pointing at himself and then Solas. She rolled her eyes at him.

     “Trust me; I don’t feel it.”

     His grin vanished, replaced with concern.

     “Are you alright?”

     Lea had to take a deep breath before she was able to reply.

     “I will be”, she said, then leaned forward to massage her numb legs. As she did, she caught sight of something behind Stroud. An enclosure of sorts. She frowned and straightened.

     “What’s that?” she asked, nodding at the area. It was littered with stones and looked a lot like…

     “A graveyard”, Solas said, speaking the word she had been thinking. “Our graveyard.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have three workdays left! Three! Can't promise a bombardment of chapters during the holidays as my family's hosting the annual Christmas party this year, but I'll definitely find more time to write than I have in the last few weeks X)


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Wonderful place, isn’t it?” he said after a while. That managed to make her smile, albeit briefly, and he must have realized she felt a bit better, because he slowly let go of her and held her at arm’s length, studying her with a frown. Silently asking if she was pretending or actually felt good enough to stand on her own. She gave him a nod and he let go._   
>  _“We have to get moving”, Hawke said. “If the Nightmare’s been weakened, now’s the time for us to make a run for it.”_   
>  _“It’s not dead”, Cole mumbled. “It’s still here, waiting, lurking…”_   
>  _“We’ll move as fast as we can”, Lea said, giving Cole’s arm a quick pat in order to make him focus. “We’re all tired and weakened as well; pushing too hard won’t get us anywhere. Except for into the Nightmare’s grip once more.”_

Lea got to her feet and walked out of her circle of friends, crossed the narrow strip of land between them and the enclosed graveyard, and stopped at the gate. There were three rows of stones. Some simple markers, others tall memorials. All had a name carved into the surface – and what she first thought were some words of remembrance. But when her eyes stuck on one of the closest stones, she realized it was something else entirely.

_Blackwall_

_Himself_

     “What does it mean?” she asked.

     “It’s another way to reveal our deepest, darkest truths”, Dorian said. He was standing right behind her, having followed. When she turned to look at him, she saw that the others were approaching as well. Solas was leaning on his staff and Cole walked next to him, as if ready to catch him should he fall. The elf clenched his jaw and looked like he wanted to bark at the spirit to go away – but he swallowed his pride enough to let Cole remain.

     “What’s that supposed to mean?” Lea asked and turned back towards Dorian. The Tevinter gave her a rueful smile, then waved his hand at one of the stones in the back – one that had his name carved in ornate letters. Below it was one more word.

_Temptation_

     “Our deepest fears”, he said. “Some… more personal than others.”

     Lea glanced up at him again, then behind her at the others. Was this something she should see? It felt… wrong. These were their secrets – and, considering the fact that Blackwall’s name had been there, the people waiting for them back in the real world had secrets hidden here as well.

     “It’s alright”, Dorian said, causing her to look at him again. “We’ve seen them all. It wouldn’t be right if you were left out.”

     She looked back at the stones. It still did not feel quite right, still gave her shivers… but she still stepped past the boundary of the enclosure and studied each stone in turn. Her heart clenched as she read the deepest fears of each of her companions, her friends, her advisors… her lovers.

     But there was none for her.

     Perhaps it was because she had already been shown her deepest, darkest fear. Because the Nightmare had already ensnared her in a terrifying vision where she was unable to save the ones she cared about the most. But that would also indicate that these stones were meant for her – in order for her to learn what the others feared. Not for them to learn what she feared.

     She touched the stone marked with Cassandra’s name and her deepest fear – helplessness – then walked on to Dorian’s, then Sera’s – the nothing. Solas’ stood in front of her and she had to swallow a lump of tears as she read his fear.

_Dying alone_

     She felt his gaze burn into her as she touched the stone. Silently she vowed that she would not let this fear come to pass. Not any of their fears would.

     “Where now are the horse and the rider?” she murmured, keeping her head down as she left Solas’ stone and walked on to Cullen’s.

_Madness_

     It was the same as the Iron Bull’s, she noted, but she doubted they referred to the same madness. Cullen’s was tied to lyrium. The Bull’s… she did not know. She had never pried much into his past, into his life ruled by the Qun. Perhaps she should.

     “Where is the horn that was blowing?” she murmured as she kept walking. Passing more stones, taking in their fears, vowing to keep them from happening.

     “Where is the helm and the hauberk, and the bright hair flowing? Where is the harp on the harp string, and the red fire glowing? Where is the spring, and the harvest and the tall corn growing?”

     She came to the gate again and turned so that her back was to her companions, as she continued to recite the poem like it was a blessing.

     “They have passed like rain on the mountain, like a wind in the meadow”, she said. “The days have gone down in the West behind the hills into shadow. Who shall gather the smoke of the deadwood burning, or behold the flowing years from the Sea returning?”

     Then, just because it felt right in that moment, she placed her right hand atop her heart, bowed and, as she straightened, slowly moved her hand down.

     None of her companions so much as stirred and the only sound was the drip of muddy water from a stone into one of the shallow ponds at the edge of the desert. Then a warm hand landed on her shoulder, turned her around, pulled her against a warm body that still – after the rough battle at Adamant and trekking through the Fade – smelled faintly of some exotic cologne. Dorian. He did not crush her against him, but still held her close enough to make her feel secure.

     “Wonderful place, isn’t it?” he said after a while. That managed to make her smile, albeit briefly, and he must have realized she felt a bit better, because he slowly let go of her and held her at arm’s length, studying her with a frown. Silently asking if she was pretending or actually felt good enough to stand on her own. She gave him a nod and he let go.

     “We have to get moving”, Hawke said. “If the Nightmare’s been weakened, now’s the time for us to make a run for it.”

     “It’s not dead”, Cole mumbled. “It’s still here, waiting, lurking…”

     “We’ll move as fast as we can”, Lea said, giving Cole’s arm a quick pat in order to make him focus. “We’re all tired and weakened as well; pushing too hard won’t get us anywhere. Except for into the Nightmare’s grip once more.”

     She glanced at Solas. He was standing a bit straighter by now, but still used his staff as support. The stubborn glare he gave her almost made her slap him; even now, in his state, he refused to admit just how dangerously drained that spell had made him. Without Dorian there to lend some extra strength, he would have been dead. She knew it – and he probably knew it as well, but was somewhat too proud to show it.

     Her mind flashed back to the forest, where Cullen had been with them. The gentleness he had used when handling Solas’ exhausted body.

     They certainly had some things to discuss when they saw each other again.

     When. Not if. When.

     “Everyone ready to head out right away?” Lea asked, turning from Solas to the others. They all nodded, faces grim in the gloom. She knew they all wanted out of here. They had seen too much.

* * *

There were no more memories to collect – and no more wraiths blocking their way. Or demons. Lea knew she was not the only one who felt like this meant trouble. A lot of trouble. What if the Nightmare had managed to distract them long enough to send Corypheus’ forces out into the real world? Or had he called them all to where he intended to make his final stand?

     Either way, they all sensed that they would have another large battle ahead of them. Against how many… no one was sure. But the closer they got to the rift, the more Cole fretted. His head snapped from one side to the other, his hands moved to his knives every other second, and he was constantly mumbling. Sometimes words they could understand, but most of the time it sounded like gibberish.

     “We’ll get you out, Cole”, Lea murmured to him, hoping he had heard her through his own thoughts and waking nightmares. “Hold on.”

     Solas walked straighter with every step he took, but there was an ever deepening crease on his forehead. As if something was amiss. That made her even more worried than him hardly being able to stand. Approaching him on the matter was impossible, though; every time Lea attempted to ask, he shook his head and either fell back or walked faster. Which meant she ended up walking next to Dorian most of the time, with Hawke taking the lead and Stroud bringing up the rear. Even though they were not arguing outright like they had been before the Nightmare claimed her, there was still tension between them. Tension thick enough to slice.

     “The path ends here”, Hawke said suddenly. For the past hour or so – Fade-time – they had been climbing up a steep slope. Now, straight in front of them, was the mountain wall itself. No continuation of the path.

     “Wouldn’t the spirit who helped us before have shown up if we headed the wrong way?” Lea asked, frowning.

     “It might not be able to come this close to the rift”, Dorian suggested. Solas looked like he disagreed, but also like he did not quite have another answer to their problem – and thus he remained silent.

     “She waits for us”, Cole suddenly murmured, making them all turn around. The spirit boy stood at a shallow stream spewing from a cave opening that they had passed before.

     “She waits for us in there”, he said, pointing into the cave. Lea pushed past the others and walked up to him, looking into the cave. The opening was perhaps wide enough for one of them to walk through at a time, and no light was able to penetrate the darkness. It smelled damp and dark – and every instinct she had told her that going inside was a bad idea.

     “Are you sure?” she asked, turning to look at Cole instead. He hid beneath his hat, still fretting with his hands. But he still nodded.

     “Yes.”

     “It’s the right direction”, Stroud noted. “If you want, Inquisitor, I’ll enter first. Make sure everything is alright.”

     Lea hesitated. She had a feeling the Nightmare would not snare her again – perhaps it was not even possible for him to snare any of them – but if she was the first to head in, maybe she could prevent it from even reaching the rest of the group. If the Nightmare was even there waiting for them.

     On the other hand, she doubted any of the others would allow her to go first right now. Her being snared by the Nightmare and held in his grasp for so long seemed to have spooked them more than anything else that had happened here.

     “Alright”, she therefore said, nodding at Stroud. The Grey Warden nodded back, then entered the cave. The darkness swallowed him instantly, as if it he had passed through a solid, black wall. If Lea strained her ears she could hear the sound of his steps in the stream, the water sloshing about his boots, but she could not keep from wondering if that was, actually, just a trick. A cold trickle of terror went down along her spine, but she forced herself to ignore it and walked towards the cave opening.

     “Stroud?”

     “It’s alright, Inquisitor”, he called back, making her release a small breath of relief. “The cave opens up in here. It’s all flooded, though.”

     Lea looked back at the rest of the group, her eyes locking with Solas’. He nodded.

     “It seems to be the way we should be going”, he said. She nodded back, then turned towards the cave, took a deep breath, and stepped into the darkness.

     For the first few steps, everything was black around her. She could feel the cave walls pressing against her shoulders, sometimes scraping against the thick leather of her jacket, and her feet were turning to blocks of ice thanks to the stream she was wading through.

     And then the darkness broke and she nearly walked straight into Stroud, who was waiting for them where the cave opened up and became much larger and brighter, with stalactites growing from the ceiling and sometimes connecting with the stalagmites growing up from the floor. One by one the rest of the group entered this part of the cave as well – and Lea found herself studying each one of them as they appeared and counting them, as if she somehow feared one of them had gotten stuck in the narrow, dark passage. But, eventually, all of them stood with her and they could move on.

     They walked through the cave in the direction they hoped was the right one. it seemed to turn slightly brighter, and the water less deep. Soon it seemed like no more than a stream from a recent rainfall – and at that point Cole stopped, tilted his head slightly, before taking off to the left, through a maze of pillars. The rest of them followed, hoping this meant Cole had found the right route – and soon they saw him standing a few feet away from a brightly glowing spirit.

     The one who had earlier looked like Divine Justinia.

     “You are almost there, Inquisitor”, she said, stepping aside to reveal another cave opening. The light outside of this one was the light of a dying sun – and all that stood between them and the rift was a short path uphill.

     And the Nightmare.

     “ _Fasta vaas_ ”, Dorian cursed, “that’s a big one.”

     “It’s… a spider?” Lea said, frowning.

     “A common fear”, Solas replied, changing the grip on his staff, “hence why it has taken on that shape, instead of one of a common Fear demon.”

     She turned back to look at the thing. It was large, as Dorian had pointed out. Huge. Giant. It stood halfway between them and the rift, towering over them and nearly blocking out the green gleam. If the Anchor had not been glowing in turn, Lea would have almost missed the thing. The Nightmare’s hulking body looked like it could not move faster than a snail or it would snap one of its many legs – not just eight, like a normal spider had – but all around it was that slithering black darkness. Threatening to snare anyone who came near it.

     Worst of all was its eyes. It had hundreds of them, covering what would have been the spider’s head, except for where its mouth was. The eyes looked human, but were bloodshot and grimy, and were constantly moving, twisting and turning independently.

     “Did I ever mention that my sister had a fear of spiders?” Lea asked as she unsheathed her knives.

     “Which one?” Dorian asked, falling into step on her left side, while Solas walked on her right.

     “Christina”, she replied. “I had to go into her room and save her from them every time she spotted one – while she stood screaming and crying on her bed. They were tiny little things – and not at all poisonous. If they had looked like that… well, then I might have understood her fear.”

     Dorian laughed, but it was a short, nervous laugh. No doubt he was more focused on the demon in front of them. Or perhaps it was focusing on him. There was a sense of danger, dread and terror in the air around them – and Lea wondered if perhaps the Nightmare projected these fears onto some of them specifically.

     “It wants our fear”, Solas said, speaking loud enough for the three walking behind them to hear as well. “Deny it and it has nothing.”

     “You won’t hurt my friends”, Cole said, his voice soft but with a lethal edge. “You won’t hurt my friends. You won’t hurt my friends.”

     He kept repeating this same sentence while Lea lengthened her stride, felt herself fall into a run, and charging at the Nightmare.

     Something bright and warm rushed past them, flying above them. The spirit that had been shown itself as the late Divine. It flew faster than they could run at the Nightmare, aiming for its eyes.

     “If you would”, she said in Divine Justinia’s voice, “please tell Leliana: I’m sorry, I failed you too.”

     Lea squinted as the light became brighter and brighter, until it was impossible for her to see a thing in front of her and forced her to pull to a halt. The others did the same, covering their eyes while the Nightmare screamed, as the spirit of Divine Justinia pushed it back.

     And then she was gone.

     Lea rubbed her eyes, staring at the now nearly empty path in front of them. What remained of the Nightmare was a black shadow, perhaps twice the height of a man, with claws growing out of its back. The shape of a common Fear demon. It snarled, the sound echoing around them and proving that while it had been forced into this shape – and weakened by the spirit’s light – it was still the Nightmare. Still their deadly enemy.

     “You will die in agony!” he roared and charged at them. Lea gritted her teeth and charged towards him in turn, flipping her knives so that they were the way she wanted them to be, ducked under one of his claws and slashed at his side. A flaming ball of fire hit him a moment later, and then a slashing of ice. Cole cut two of his claws to pieces, still murmuring the same sentence, and Stroud and Hawke seemed to have finally decided to work as a team again and focused on pushing the demon back. Towards the abyss on the side of the path leading up to the rift.

     It laughed at their attempts, despite bleeding dark blood from several wounds and cuts, despite having black robes that burned all around him.

     “I grow fat on your fear”, he said. “You cannot stand against me.”

     “Dare you to say that twice”, Lea muttered, then slashes at his back.

     As she did, movement to her right made her look up, take a step back. Solas. He was leaning heavily on his staff again, clutching at it with one hand while flinging the other out the way he always did when casting a spell.

     Only nothing happened. Not even a barrier sprung up.

     And suddenly she understood that frown he had been sporting ever since they left the graveyard. Why he had looked worried.

     His magic was gone.

     Maybe not forever, but for now it was… depleted. The only spell he had managed was the rain of ice shards at the start of this fight, and then nothing.

     No one else in the group seemed to have noticed – or maybe they had, but were far too busy fighting for their lives. As she was forced to do as well. The Nightmare whirled on her and she instinctively slashed, ducked, rolled away, all while her mind was spinning with the realization that Solas – the strongest mage she knew – might have sacrificed his entire well of power to save her from this thing.

     She gritted her teeth and ducked beneath a claw, which she then slashed off the Nightmare’s back, spun, and stabbed both knives where his heart would have been had he been human. Despite not having an actual heart, the stab must have hurt, because the Nightmare threw his head back and roared.

     And as he did, Cole sprung up and cut off his head.

     The Nightmare crumbled to dust between them.

     For a moment, they all just stood there, staring at what remained of the demon. Then they all realized that they should probably take this chance and move. The rift’s gleaming green light had never looked so inviting, so… like the promise of salvation. The opposite of what the rifts always meant back in Thedas.

     Cole rushed ahead, obviously wishing to get out of here as soon as possible. Dorian followed, grabbing Solas on the way and supporting him. Of course he had noticed what was going on; he was a mage as well, after all.

     Lea ran after them and heard the heavy boots of both Stroud and Hawke following. Matching the beat of her heart.

     _We’re going to make it._

     But, as always, that thought jinxed it. Suddenly the sure, heavy steps of Stroud and Hawke fell silent behind her, making her pause and turn around, just as Cole leaped through the rift up ahead.

     Behind her, however, it was another story.

     The Nightmare was back, in his hideous, giant spider shape – and he seemed intent on keeping the last two of the group from reaching the rift. Every last drop of his power was focused on the pair and Lea could see them both pale as pure terror seeped into their bones. There was a loud clang as Hawke dropped his sword to the ground.

     “No!” she shouted and rushed back, ducking beneath the legs of the Nightmare and taking up a stand in front of the two men. In her head, the Nightmare laughed – and she realized all too late this was what he had wanted. To make her turn back. Because now he moved differently, more like a deadly beast ready to strike – and there was no way for the three of them to simply duck beneath his giant belly and run for the rift.

     “We need to clear a path”, Stroud said, his voice trembling slightly but his grip on his sword hardening. He turned towards her and Hawke with eyes that gleamed with resolution. Hawke was the first to realize why.

     “No…”

     “You were right”, Stroud said, looking at his friend. “The Grey Wardens caused this. A Warden must…”

     “A Warden must help them rebuild!” Hawke protested. “That’s your job! This… thing, it serves Corypheus – and Corypheus is _my_ job!”

     “No one stays behind!” Lea snapped. “We’re all getting out of here, remember?”

     She thought she heard someone scream behind the Nightmare, but it was too big and bulky for her to be sure. Instead she brandished her knives again – and the beast laughed.

     “You think I’m done with you, little girl?” he asked. “You think just because you escaped my dreams, your fears won’t come to pass?”

     He turned slightly, not enough for them to safely pass beneath him but enough for her to see past his legs. At the body crumbled on the other side. At Dorian rushing down the hill to lift it up from the ground, revealing Solas’ agonized face and, on the elf’s stomach, an ever expanding patch of dark, red blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you've had an awesome Christmas and that you've, so far, had a happy start to the new year... and that you're not too mad about this chapter's ending.  
> I will post another one soon, I promise!


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Inquisitor…”_   
>  _One soldier approached her and bowed. She recognized him as one of Cullen’s lieutenants. Barnard, she thought was his name._   
>  _“What is it, soldier?” she asked. He frowned slightly. Worriedly. Obviously this was not the Inquisitor he knew – whom his Commander loved._   
>  _“The Archdemon flew off as soon as you disappeared”, he reported. “The Venatori magister is unconscious, but alive. The Commander thought you might want to deal with him yourself.”_   
>  _“That I do”, she muttered._

Time seemed to slow until it nearly stood still. The colours around them faded, turning everything dark and dull and grey, except for that blood. The blood pouring from the deep wound in Solas’ stomach – and on one of the Nightmare’s legs.

     A scream echoed through the Fade. It took Lea a long time to realize it was actually her that was producing that heart wrenching sound – and by the time she did, she could not stop. She just kept screaming.

     Someone laughed, a dark and triumphant laugh. The Nightmare. And her horror at seeing Solas wounded – dying – turned into dark, cold fury. She wanted to rip through that demon, cut him up into little pieces and burn them – and do the same to it once it reformed. Again and again and again. Her hands reached for her knives as the scream slowly died in her throat and her eyes left Solas’ body, turning instead to the monster between them.

     And then a pair of strong arms wrapped around her and kept her from taking hold of her knives.

     “Stroud!” a familiar voice shouted close to her ear while she struggled to free herself. A part of her remembered that it was Hawke, that he was a friend, that he most likely wanted to help, but that part was nothing compared to the primal need for blood and vengeance that coursed through her.

     “Go!” another voice shouted. “I’ll cover you. Get her out of here!”

     Hawke lifted her off the ground and manoeuvred her until he had one arm wrapped around her shoulders and upper arms, pressing her against his chest, and the other about her legs, locking them together at his side. And then he started running, never moving in a straight line, dodging sharp legs and claws and everything else that the Nightmare shot their way in order to keep them back. When Lea managed to turn her head to look towards the rift, she saw Dorian disappear through it, carrying Solas. The elf was not moving.

     Something made Hawke stumble and shout a curse. His steps were more uneven after that, but he still moved towards the rift. Away from the Nightmare. She had stopped struggling by now, mainly because she hoped he would drop her, thinking she was ready to go on her own. At which point she would run back to the Nightmare and fight it for all eternity, if that was what it took.

     But Hawke did not drop her. He stumbled, hissed as if in pain from time to time, but he kept her locked in his arms and moved forward. The Nightmare did not follow. It was held back by Stroud, who was doing what Lea wanted to be doing. Cutting it to pieces. He did not even look in their direction.

     And then they were surrounded by the green light of the rift. The cloying sulphuric air was replaced by the smell of a cold desert night, combined with the smell of dirt, grime, sweat, and burning bodies.

     Adamant.

     Hawke stumbled again and, this time, he dropped onto the ground, causing her to tumble from his arms. He clutched at his left side with his hand. Blood was seeping through his fingers.

     The Nightmare must have gotten to him as well.

     Lea spun around and got up onto her feet, looking around. There were soldiers – Inquisition soldiers – around them, as well as a few Grey Wardens. She recognized one of the men who had been aiding them before. Many were staring in wonder – some even bowed or knelt – but all she could think of was the fact that Solas was not there.

     “Where are the others?” she asked. Her voice came out harsher than it ever had when addressing her men, and some took a step back in surprise.

     “The Commander”, one managed to reply, “he escorted them to the healers.”

     Cullen had been there – and had reacted as one should. None of the people surrounding her and Hawke now seemed to be even close to aiding the man on the ground.

     Normally, she would have. She would have dropped onto the ground, put one of Hawke’s arms around her shoulders and dragged him with her to the healers. But that part of her mind lay too close to the dread of losing Solas. The fear that, once she got to the healers with Hawke, she would find out that her friend had not made it.

     And that she was not ready to handle.

     So she shut that part of her away. Hid behind a stone cold façade of anger and power. And, just to show that this was so, she turned towards the still open rift, aimed her left hand at it, and closed it by fisting her fingers. It shut much more violently than any other rift she had closed before, sending out a shockwave across the courtyard that made the soldiers stumble back even further.

     She did not care.

     “Get Hawke to a healer”, she barked at a pair of them. “Now!”

     They hurriedly obeyed, hoisting Hawke up to his feet between them and disappearing out through the gate. The healer was most likely set up outside of the fortress. Another reason why she dreaded going there. Considering how Solas had looked when she last saw him…

     “Inquisitor…”

     One soldier approached her and bowed. She recognized him as one of Cullen’s lieutenants. Barnard, she thought was his name.

     “What is it, soldier?” she asked. He frowned slightly. Worriedly. Obviously this was not the Inquisitor he knew – whom his Commander loved.

     “The Archdemon flew off as soon as you disappeared”, he reported. “The Venatori magister is unconscious, but alive. The Commander thought you might want to deal with him yourself.”

     “That I do”, she muttered. The lieutenant swallowed, then continued.

     “As for the Wardens… those who were not corrupted helped us through the battle.”

     One Grey Warden stepped forward as well, placing his right hand over his heart.

     “We stand ready to help make up for Clarel’s mistake, Inquisitor.”

     He looked around them, scanning the faces of his fellow Wardens, then back at Lea.

     “I… apologies, Inquisitor, but I must ask… where is Stroud?”

     Stroud.

     He had been fighting the Nightmare, buying them time to leave… and she had sealed the road for him. If she had just kept it open a bit longer, perhaps he would have made it here as well.

     Now it was too late.

     “Warden Stroud died striking a blow against a servant of the Blight”, she replied. As she spoke, some of her usual intoning crept back into her voice. The ice around her heart melted a bit. It made the people surrounding her visibly relax. Their Inquisitor was back.

     “We will honour his sacrifice”, she continued, “and remember how he exemplified the ideals of the Grey Wardens. Even as Corypheus and his servants tried to destroy you all from within.”

     A murmur rose up from the assembled Grey Wardens. Some bowed, fists to their hearts, while others shed a few silent tears. The man who had spoken before squared his shoulders.

     “Inquisitor”, he said, his voice trembling slightly, “we have no one left of any significant rank. What do we do now?”

     _You seriously cannot do anything without someone commanding you?_ she thought, feeling sudden contempt towards them. And anger at herself for not waiting for Stroud. He would have been able to command these men and women. Would have been able to lead them.

     Now… now it was up to her. As always.

     “You’ll serve with the Inquisition until one of you reaches that significant rank”, she said, “and help solve this mess. This was a victory – but we’re still at war. And it ain’t going to get easier after this.”

     “After all that, you give them yet another chance?”

     The accented voice made Lea look up, as Cassandra walked towards her little scene, followed by some of her other friends. Lea glared at the scarred woman – and, to her surprise, Cassandra stopped, frowning as she realized what the people here had already known.

     This was not the same Inquisitor who had fallen into the Fade. Something else had come out of it.

     “My word is final”, Lea said, the harsh tone back in her voice. She started walking towards them, back straight, steps hard and at a marching pace. Everything to keep her mind from going where she could not have it go.

     “Send word to every Warden stronghold. I want every single one of them at Skyhold once we get back there. Considering the size of this battle, I doubt we’ll be able to ride away from here until tomorrow, at the earliest. Before we do I want Erimond brought out for judging and punishment.”

     “You sure about that, Snow?” Varric asked. Lea paused. Snow. Varric had never called her that before. At any other time, she would have stopped and asked him about it.

     Now all she did was that brief pause – and then a sharp reply.

     “Yes.”

     And then she left the courtyard.

* * *

The traces of the battle were all through the fortress and the field beyond it. There were pyres for the dead – both inside the ruin and out – and people scurrying back and forth with objects they had collected. Some they would, undoubtedly, place in their own pockets. Lockets, rings, a belt buckle – anything that could be hidden without notice. Some would, undoubtedly, also try to go for the more valuable objects. The weapons and the armour. Those they would not be able to hide unless they discarded their old ones – and even then some would recognize it. Those who knew what your weapon looked like to begin with and were stunned to see you carry a new one.

     Some of those would report it to their superiors. Others would not. Either way, Lea doubted the Inquisition’s armoury would receive much of these objects without them having passed through a few soldiers’ hands first.

     And she frankly could not care less.

     There was a line of wounded near one area of the camp, indicating that that was where the healers had stationed themselves. Those still outside were either being treated by mages with limited healing skill or by their fellow comrades – if their injuries were not too severe. Scanning the crowd, she saw no sign of Solas, or Hawke. They must have been brought in at once.

     Or, in Solas case, he might not even have made it here. His body might be one of those burning on the pyres.

     She stopped walking, closed her eyes, fisted her hands, inhaled deeply…

     _Don’t think._

     She spun on her heel and took off in the opposite direction, through the majority of the camp, aiming for where the animals were kept at the far end. Finding her own horse was easy. It, just like all the other horses, already had its saddle and bridle on – a precaution, in case they would have had to abandon this mission. This battle. With all that had happened, no one seemed to have bothered doing more than loosening the bit – allowing the horse to eat – and the girth. Fixing them in place was easy and in no time she was up on the mare’s back, urging it away from camp as fast as she dared go.

     It was nearing dawn when she finally allowed the horse to slow down and, eventually, stop. Adamant was far behind them. Every muscle and bone in her body ached, her stomach rumbled from lack of food, her head pounded and she had to fight to stay awake. To not let her eyes close for too long. Because who knew what she would see if she allowed herself to sleep. To dream.

     To venture into the Fade.

     If Stroud had not managed to slay the Nightmare, it might be waiting for her there. Turning every thought in her head into hell. Maybe she would never wake up. Maybe the rest of the Inquisition would find her here, in a few days, limp and cold and dead.

     She slapped herself in the face in reply.

     “You get some rest, at least”, she told the horse, patting it on the neck after jumping down onto the ground. The mare snorted, as if thinking her foolish.

     Lea, partially, agreed.

     She did intend to head back to Adamant during the day. It was never her plan to stay out here, a few hours’ ride away, but staying there, amidst all that death and blood and horrible memories… she had not been able to. Eventually, she would have to – she was the Inquisitor, after all – but for now she needed peace and quiet. And a way to keep herself from going to those tents and see if Solas was alive. Keep herself from heartbreak.

     She was certain he was dead. Without his magic he would not have been able to heal himself – and judging by how far up his blood had reached on the Nightmare’s clawed leg… it had gone right through him.

     In her vision, the Nightmare had told her to choose. To save either Solas or Cullen. Fate, in its cruel ways, had taken that choice from her.

     Judging by how far the sun had risen, she and her mare had been out there for about two hours when she decided to start the journey back. As she rode, the urge to see someone pay for this rose in her again.

     And the only one she could severely punish was Livius Erimond.

     She wanted his blood.

* * *

“I want every able person in this camp present for the judging of Livius Erimond in one hour, at the hill just north of the main camp”, Lea told a squire as he met her at the provisional stables, most likely to deliver a message of his own. The boy paled slightly.

     “Ma’am?”

     “Spread the word”, she ordered. The boy made a swift bow and ran off, while she walked through the camp towards the wagon owned by the smith, Harritt. The gruff older man did not fuss about when she asked him for the sharpest longsword he could find. Instead he disappeared into the wagon, opened a long box, and pulled out the ceremonial sword she had held when she became the Inquisitor.

     “Brought this along just in case”, he said as she accepted it. A faint smile crept up on her lips.

     “Thank you, Harritt.”

     She shrugged off her usual gear and instead fastened the sword to her back, and as she made her way to the hill she had designated to be good enough for this people moved out of her way, gaping at the sword on her back. It was the first time they had seen her wear it. She should make sure it was always visible during her upcoming hearings in Skyhold.

     An hour after her arrival, the crowd surrounding the hill was bigger than she had anticipated. Many wore bandages, but had managed to get out of bed for this, drawn to the event like bees to honey. She should have asked if they had any rotten fruit lying around – they certainly seemed ready to throw such objects as two guards pulled Livius Erimond up the hill, towards her. Now they resorted to throwing dirt, or the occasional rock, or, if they were close enough, spat in his face.

     And yet he remained haughty.

     “I recognize none of this proceeding”, he snapped as he was forced to his knees in front of her. “You have no authority to judge me.”

     “As a matter of fact, I do”, Lea replied. She did not speak loudly, but she knew everyone standing in the crowd could hear her.

     “When it comes to the Venatori and Corypheus, officials from all over Thedas – including Tevinter – are deferring to the Inquisition’s judgement. That includes you. Or are you suddenly not a member of the Venatori and loyal to Corypheus?”

     Erimond snorted.

     “Because they fear”, he said. “Not just Corypheus, but that Tevinter would reclaim what is rightfully theirs. To once again become the ruler of every piece of ground you’ve trod in your pathetic life.”

     He spat on the ground in front of her feet.

     “I served a living god. Bring down your blade and free me from the physical. Glory awaits me.”

     Lea let out a bitter laugh, which made Erimond frown.

     “You think the next world will be better?” she asked him. “That Corypheus rules it? Well, Erimond, let me tell you a secret…

     She bent down towards him.

     “The next world”, she said softly, “is smoke and ashes. Machines that poison the very air you breathe. The next world is war. The next world burns mages such as you if you so much as pluck a plant with healing properties and bring it back from the woods. I grew up there – I know how to survive – but I have my doubts about you.”

     She gave him a small smile, which most likely looked like a predator’s grin to the people around them.

     “If I grant your wish and send you there by cutting off your head, I doubt you’d survive the next hour.”

     He looked stunned and confused, trying to make sense of what she was saying. What she was claiming. She straightened and turned towards the crowd.

     “The crimes of this man are severe”, she announced, “and for that, a severe punishment must be dealt. I’ll let you all decide what’s most fitting. Either, a mage’s punishment – Tranquility…”

     A roar rose up from the crowd and Erimond squeaked at her feet. She held up a hand to silence the onlookers.

     “Or”, she said, “his blood will be the last to be spilled here. Beheading, by my hand.”

     She had not been sure, but enough mages were in the crowd to sway it in favour of the second option. The roar that rose now was even louder than the first – and it made her grin as she pulled the ornate sword free. The guards who had escorted Erimond up the stairs pushed him down, forced him to bend closer to the ground. He was trembling.

     “Any last words?” she asked him.

     “You lie”, he hissed. “The next world is…”

     “Send me a postcard if you survive”, she said, still smiling. Then she brought the blade down. It sawed through his neck as if he was a wax doll ready to be put on display at Madame Tussaud’s – only it was not wax that ran out onto the ground, but a dark red stream of blood. A roar went up from the crowd again.

     “Burn his body!” Lea shouted as it dwindled down slightly. Dozens – maybe even a hundred – moved up the hill to grab what they could and drag the body to one of the still burning pyres. Before they reached her, however, she was moving in the opposite direction. Against the stream. Down into camp. Aiming for her own tent at the centre. Lea’s hands shook as she removed the sword and let it fall to the ground by the entrance.

     She had just condemned a man to death – and executed him personally – and she had enjoyed it. Hell, she had felt like the White Witch of Narnia as she was about to execute Aslan!

     What the bloody hell was she turning into?

     She dropped onto the cot, wiped her face with her hands, and realized they were still covered in Erimond’s blood. That her face was most likely painted with it by now as well. That made her tremble even more violently, made her want to scream and cry and shout… but none of those sounds escaped her lips. Instead she just sat there, trembling, staring at the red on her palms and fingers.

     She did not even notice the tent flap move, realize that someone else was in there, until that someone dropped onto the cot next to her. It made her jump up, spin around, and look straight into Cullen’s face. There were lines of worry etched all over it.

     “Lea…”

     “You saw?” she breathed. He hesitated, then nodded.

     “I wanted to stop you”, he said, “but… why did you do that? Whip them up into such a frenzy?”  
     “I… I don’t know.”

     She dropped down onto the cot again, staring at her hands.

     “I’ve not been myself since I got back last night”, she whispered. “All I want, all I think about… I wanted blood. I wanted someone to pay.”

     “For what you suffered in the Fade?” Cullen asked.

     “And for the people we lost. For Stroud. For… for Solas…”

     Lea had to close her eyes to keep from crying. One of Cullen’s arms immediately wrapped around her shoulders, allowing her to move into his embrace should she want to. She wanted to – but she did not do it. She remained where she was.

     “Solas is alive”, he said softly.

     Her head snapped up so hard she feared she had broken her neck simply by doing that.

     “What?”

     “He’s alive”, Cullen repeated. “Dorian worked a miracle, along with two of our best healers. They’ve made him sleep, though. I doubt he’ll wake properly for another couple of days, but it’s for the best.”

     She hardly heard him. Her head was spinning with the realization that Solas was alive.

     “Where is he?” she breathed.

     “In my tent.”

     Once again, she snapped her head towards him so hard and fast she should – by all means of logic – have broken her neck. His tent. Solas was in Cullen’s tent?

     “I thought that might be the better option”, Cullen said, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. “The healers’ tents were crowded by the time you got back and…”

     Not caring that her hands were bloody, she grabbed hold of his head and kissed him, hard. His hands flailed about them in shock and, as she let go of him in order to rise, he stared at her.

     “Let’s go”, she said. “Right now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all continue to enjoy this story as it progresses! I couldn't kill Solas, now could I? ;)  
> But you all should probably take note of the "Major Character Death" warning. Someone will die.
> 
> Anyhow, if you didn't check out the intermission chapter posted here before, it was basically about me starting to plan out a possible sequel to this and trying to figure out what sort of character to add (that'd basically be the lead for a possible DA4 game). If you want, you can still vote for your favourite through [this poll](http://www.easypolls.net/poll.html?p=5a4e94f9e4b03cba2c91fc94). If you don't know which the characters are, you have the artwork inspiration for them [here](https://pin.it/x4oyl6nqnwxkwe).


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Do you know”, he said, “how fucking little we have in our library on early Tevinter history?”_   
>  _She blinked – and had to fight very hard not to gape at him like a fish on dry land._   
>  _“You… only just realized?”_   
>  _“No”, he bit back. “Just thought I’d bring it to your attention. The mighty Inquisitor should be able to get books delivered to Skyhold that told of other things than when Divine Galatea took a shit, shouldn’t she?”_

Somehow, Cullen’s tent felt cooler than her own had. And darker. And occupied by two others. Dorian sat slumped against the wooden post in the middle, head bent so that his jaw almost touched his chest, skin paler than usual. He was fast asleep – just like the man resting on the raised cot at the back of the tent.

     Solas.

     The elf’s skin looked stark white even in the darkness and he had dark rings beneath his eyes. He had bandages wrapped about his torso and the smell of herbs and tingle of magic was apparent even from where Lea and Cullen stood at the entrance to the tent. As Lea walked closer, she was shocked by how thin, how frail Solas looked in this state. If she had not been able to discern his breathing…

     She forced herself to stop there. Nothing good could come from thinking of Solas as a cold, dead corpse. Instead she reached out and gently placed her hand on his cheek, felt the warmth of his skin… and that was when she allowed herself to cry. She sank to her knees next to the cot, dropped her head onto the blankets next to Solas, and let every tear she had held in since she arrived in Thedas months ago spill out.

     Cullen did not pick her up in order to console her. Perhaps seeing her like this – fragile, broken – was a shock to him. He had seen her scared, tired, sad… but this was different. This was every emotion she had forced herself to keep back, hidden from everyone, since she became the Inquisitor.

     When the flood finally stilled, though, she felt him kneel next to her. His arms wound about her waist and she turned into the embrace, into the warmth and safety that he radiated, but without letting go of Solas. While crying she had moved her hand from his cheek to his arm, then to his own hand, and even though he was drugged to make sure he got time to heal she imagined his hand gently squeezing back.

     She did not know for how long they had been standing there when Dorian cleared his throat behind Cullen’s back. Gently the Commander pulled back and glanced over his shoulder at the mage, then turned back towards Lea.

     “Are you hungry?” he asked softly. _Translation; Dorian wants to talk with me_ , Lea thought.

     “Not really”, she answered, then sighed, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t need to eat.”

     Cullen smiled slightly, then kissed the top of her head.

     “I’ll be back soon”, he promised, then let her go and left. As he did, she looked at Dorian – awake but still pale. And glaring.

     That, if anything, brought her back to the moment. Grounded her. And made her both annoyed and, honestly, quite a bit worried. Especially considering the pallor of his skin.

     “Do you know”, he said, “how fucking little we have in our library on early Tevinter history?”

     She blinked – and had to fight very hard not to gape at him like a fish on dry land.

     “You… only just realized?”

     “No”, he bit back. “Just thought I’d bring it to your attention. The mighty Inquisitor should be able to get books delivered to Skyhold that told of other things than when Divine Galatea took a shit, shouldn’t she?”

     _He’s angry with me_ , she thought, _but not because of the books._

     “Or you could try recruiting some rebellious archivists”, Dorian ranted. “Just make Corypheus interested in burning some masterworks of literature; they’d swarm to your cause.”

     “Dorian”, Lea said before he could continue, “what’s this about?”

     He shut his mouth – and she crossed her arms over her chest, arched an eyebrow at him, and waited. The anger drained out of him in a way that was as visible as a bucket of water being poured over one’s head. He sighed, bent his head and covered his face with his hands, resting his elbows on his knees.

     “I thought I’d lost you.”

     His voice was suddenly so soft, so frail that it was difficult to hear him. But she did – and felt as if something had gripped her heart as she understood what he was talking about.

     Due to what was happening between her and Cullen and Solas – the inner turmoil she was facing due to her feelings for the two of them – Dorian had become someone who simply… was there. Someone she could come to with whatever problem she had, who would make her smile, make her laugh, ease her tension. And, yes, he was also a terribly big tease whom she more than on one occasion had punched in the arm or kicked on the chin.

     In the vision the Nightmare had given her, Dorian had been the one bringing her to Corypheus – because the Nightmare had known just how much that would instantly break her. Because if Dorian – her Dorian – was not there by her side when the world went to hell, who would be?

     He was her best friend – and, in some ways, the big brother she had never had.

     With her personal dilemmas, however, she had forgotten how much Dorian, in return, relied on her to keep him afloat.

     “First”, Dorian said, voice still soft, “I watched you fall – and followed. Was both shocked and relieved to see us both survive and fall into the Fade. And then it was the vision… if Solas had not devised that plan of his, I don’t know what…”

     He paused and drew a deep, shuddering breath. Then he leaned his head back against the post and stared up at the tent’s ceiling.

     “You sent us ahead… Solas turned back when he realized and I… the Nightmare… I’ll never forget the way you sounded when you saw that had happened. And I vowed I’d make sure…”

     “Dorian…”

     “No”, he said, shaking his head, “let me finish. I don’t ever want to hear you in that much pain again, because I don’t think I, or anyone, would be able to put you back together. And when you and Hawke and Stroud did not immediately come after us… I thought it’d be the last…”

     He closed his eyes again and swallowed. Lea immediately walked up to where he was and sat down next to him, wrapped her arms around him. He responded at once, arms winding around her waist, head landing on her shoulder as he shuddered – as the first tear stained her shirt.

     “I’m sorry”, she whispered. For what else could she say?

     “I’m so sorry, Dorian. I’m sorry.”

     She felt him shake his head against her shoulder.

     “Don’t you fucking apologize”, he said, his voice partly muffled. “You’re the Inquisitor; I should know better. War’s not the time for attachments.”  
     “Bullshit”, she replied and pulled back, framing his face with her hands. “War’s the time when we need them the most. When we need to know that we have friends and family who love us more than anything in the world – and that we love just as much. It’s what keeps us going.”

     He sniffed, then closed his eyes and swallowed again.

     “Why’d you have to say such sensible things when I’m crying my heart out?” he asked. She snorted out a laugh, which made him smile slightly as well.

     “Someone has to”, she said. Gently she then moved so that she sat wedged against his side. He moved in turn, placing one arm around her shoulders and, when she leaned her head against him, he placed his on top of hers.

     “How are you doing?” he softly asked. She managed a slight shrug.

     “I don’t know”, she honestly admitted. “Stroud… he might have made it out, if…”

     “From what Hawke told me, there wasn’t much hope”, Dorian replied.

     “You’ve talked to him?”

     “Yes. And, before you ask, he’s fine. Bruised and battered and got a nasty cut from the demon when he brought you out from there, but he’s fine. Not like…”

     He fell silent, but his eyes wandered to Solas. Which meant hers did as well.

     “He’ll be fine, won’t he?” she asked. She sounded like a child.

     “He will”, Dorian replied. “At first, I wasn’t sure – and neither were the healers – but now the danger has passed. He just needs time to heal and regain his strength.”

     _Solas is a fast healer_ , Lea thought. Although, she was not sure how much of that came from him – and how much of it that came from magic. If it was the latter, he was no faster at healing himself than any other on average.

     “You saved him”, she said, “twice.”

     “Not alone.”

     “Maybe not the second time…”

     “Not the first, either”, Dorian interrupted. She frowned and looked up at him.

     “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked. He sighed.

     “When he went under – went into that vision to save you – I could sense his power waning quickly. He had warned me that it might happen and so I lent him some of mine, but he had also warned me of not lending too much. We couldn’t afford to have both of us drained, after all, if we were suddenly ambushed… so I had to stop. And his power just snuffed out like a candle.”

     He pursed his lips slightly.

     “And then it came back. Faint, weak, but there. Like a second heartbeat. In fact I’m quite certain it emanated from his left side.”  
     “Is that some sort of play on the phrase ‘second heartbeat’, or did you actually see that?” Lea asked.

     “I saw it”, Dorian replied. “It’s… a strange thing to explain to someone who hasn’t seen it. But imagine a faint cloud – or mist – going from one person to another. That’s the power transfer. And that cloud links wherever those people link. I linked with Solas’ left shoulder – and that second link came from the same place.”

     Lea tried to recall what had happened in that vision and when her and Solas and Cullen had been in the forest glade together, but her mind felt too mushy. Tired. She was so damn tired.

     “Whatever that was”, Dorian said, “it saved him. And that’s enough stories for tonight.”

     He squeezed her shoulder and then rose.

     “I’m going to see if Bull has brought any food for me”, he said.

     “Is there a reason why you’ve suddenly dropped the article before his name?” Lea asked, smiling up at him. As he was still quite pale from having worked on healing Solas, it was easy to see his blush.

     “I just don’t think… he’s not an object.”

     She smiled at him, then gave him another hug.

     “You’re wrong, you know”, she said into his chest. “If I’m ever broken beyond what most people can repair, you’d be the only one who’d be able to fix me up.”

     “And why’s that?” he asked, sounding faintly amused. She met his gaze.

     “Because you’d never give up – even if I asked you to – and you’d try every ridiculous way you could come up with to get it done.”

     “Such faith”, Dorian sighed – but by now he was also smiling. “Let’s just hope I’ll never have to try and live up to that.”

     She smiled, then let him go and turned towards the bed, sinking down on the edge and taking Solas’ hand.

     “One more thing.”

     Dorian still stood in the doorway of the tent.

     “You do realize this feat – walking in the Fade, being the only real thing there – it has not been performed in over a thousand years? If Corypheus was one of those magisters who entered the Fade and begun the first Blight – but they were mages. You are not. You have the Anchor, yes, but you’re not a mage – and yet you walked the Fade without it being a dream. If people hear of it… they will attempt to follow. Will try to venture there as if it was the Deep Roads – and the Deep Roads would be safe by comparison. What they could unknowingly or knowingly unleash…”

     Lea nodded.

     “I agree. Better to keep this quiet – not give them any proof of what happened.”

     He let out a slight sigh and shook his head.

     “If people in Tevinter found out, more blood magic would be used there than during the Kirkwall rebellion. In one day. All to get into the Fade and show that anyone could do it. Exactly what I do not need.”

     He turned and moved to leave, then stopped again.

     “What I do need, however, is a copy of the Liberalum.”

     “Are we talking books again?” Lea asked with a frown. Dorian flashed her a grin over his shoulder.

     “I’d wager I could find Corypheus’ real name in there”, he said, “and if I can prove that he was a grasping ankle-biter with no family to speak of, the urge to follow him back in Tevinter would disappear in a flash. Just a thought.”

     And then he was gone.

* * *

 _"Where am I,_ vhenan _?”_

_A faint whisper. Hardly louder than the wind passing through the trees._

_“Where am I,_ vhenan _?”_

 _“Where are you,_ vhenan _?”_

* * *

“Lea?”

     She jolted awake at the sound of her name. It took her a moment to refocus, remember that she was in Cullen’s tent, by Solas’ cot, and she had finally let the exhaustion claim her. Cullen stood next to her, and there was a bowl of stew on the narrow table on the opposite side of the tent. It smelled divine.

     “When was the last time you slept?” he asked.

     “Right now?” she replied, hiding a yawn behind a hand as she rose and made her way towards the bowl. Cullen did not speak as she started wolfing it down, filling a stomach that had been empty for too long. Not until it was empty did she realize that it had been almost cold – and that the light outside had gone away. The camp was only illuminated by torches, campfires, and the occasional magic baubles. The tent had a lantern that Cullen must have lit upon returning – which, judging by how long the stew had been standing here, might have been quite a while ago.

     “How is everyone?” she asked, nodding at the opening that was now closed.

     “Coping”, Cullen replied. “Cassandra’s suggested we leave tomorrow, put some distance between us and this place, but we won’t be able to go far with all the wounded.”

     It would be a slow journey back to Skyhold. How much damage would Corypheus be able to do while they still travelled?

     And how much more damage would those who were injured take by travelling so soon?

     “I agree with getting away from here”, Lea said, “but it won’t be a speedy retreat. I doubt we’ll see Skyhold again for quite a few weeks to come. Maybe even a month.”

     There was an ache in her chest as she spoke of the fortress. Homesickness, she realized. Skyhold had become her home. She longed to sleep in her own bed, spend time in the rotunda with Solas and Dorian, study the maps in the war room, walk the battlements with Cullen… how long had she been away? She had lost count of the days.

     “We can evaluate the situation tomorrow”, she said, shaking herself to bring her mind back to the present. Cullen nodded, agreeing.

     “Before then, you should get some sleep.”

     She tensed. Falling asleep after Dorian left had not been something she had intended to do. She had done everything to stay awake, but she had just… drifted off. Luckily with no nightmares. Only strange dreams. Whispers. Voices among the trees in the glade.

     No. Not voices. One voice.

     “Solas.”

     Cullen frowned, then turned to look at the elf on the cot. Solas, of course, had not moved, which made Cullen turn back towards her.

     “What is it?” he asked.

     “Solas spoke to me”, she replied, “when I slept. He asked… he didn’t know where he was.”

     Cullen looked, if possible, even more confused.

     “Solas pulled you into a shared dream before, didn’t he?” she asked. “When you two saved me from the Nightmare?”

     To her surprise, a slight flush appeared on his cheeks at the question.

     “He did”, he admitted, speaking slowly, “but he was using magic. He was… not in this state.”

     “I know what I heard, Cullen”, she retorted.

     “Then tell me what we’re supposed to do”, he said. “How are we supposed to help him find out where he is… in a dream? And why? Maybe it’s the tonic that’s making him slightly delirious.”

     “Wouldn’t doubt that, but maybe he needs help getting back to someplace closer to waking. If he doesn’t, maybe…”

     She fell silent – and Cullen’s frown vanished completely. He understood.

     “How will we even get there?”

     Lea opened her mouth, then closed it again. It had not even occurred to her until now that Cullen was speaking as if both of them had to find Solas’… consciousness, was perhaps the best word. His mouth curved up slightly.

     “I’m not letting you go in there alone. It’s both of us or neither.”

     She had never entered a shared dream on her own. Solas had always been there – had been the one who initiated the dream. She had a feeling she would be invited into one the moment she fell asleep again, but Cullen? How could she bring him in?

     “I’ll fall asleep first and bring you in”, she eventually said, “ _and_ before you protest and say that I might be tricking you and won’t bring you in at all… if I don’t do it before you’ve counted fifty breaths after I’ve fallen asleep, wake me up.”

     Cullen studied her intently for a few moments longer, before he nodded.

     “Alright”, he said. “It’s the best we have.”

     He grabbed a spare set of bedrolls and placed them on the ground near the cot. Lea lay down first, next to the cot, and Cullen lay down on the other side. In a way she was now right in-between the two men who tore her heart in two different directions… and yet also in the same one.

     “Ready?” she asked. Cullen’s hand gripped her own. He let out a slow, measured breath.

     “Yes.”

     It felt like she was in the glade before she had fully closed her eyes.

     The forest was bleaker than it usually was, as if autumn was nearing. The wind rustled the leaves on the trees and brought a whisper of a voice along.

     “ _Vhenan_ …”

     “Solas?” she called, spinning in a circle, trying to see if she could see him. There was no sign of anyone else; the only trace of him was his voice whispering in the wind.

     “Solas, I’m here!”

     “ _Vhenan_ …”

     “Solas, where are you? How can I find you?”

     The voice did not reply.

     “Solas?” she called. “Solas?”

     “What happened to this place?”

     She yelped and spun around. Cullen stood a few feet behind her, staring at the bleakness around them. She had not even asked Solas to bring him in yet. Had Solas decided to do so on his own – sensing Cullen nearby as well? Did he trust him that much? Or had she been the one to do it?

     “Solas created it”, she replied once the shock had died down a bit.

     “And now that he’s not quite here, it’s fading”, Cullen filled in. He was eyeing a spot not far from where they stood. A moment later she realized it was where Solas had fallen after bringing her back from the Nightmare’s vision.

     Where Cullen had lowered him down.

     “Where am I?”

     The whisper seemed fainter this time, but they both looked up, peeking in among the trees surrounding them as if Solas would just magically appear if they just looked in the right direction.

     “Solas?” Cullen called. “Can you hear us?”

     The reply was so soft that they almost mistook it for the wind itself.

     “ _Eth…_ ”

     Cullen frowned deeply and looked at Lea, who met his gaze.

     “Assuming he did not get cut-off midway through a word”, she said, “that means ‘safe’. That wherever he is he says he’s safe.”

     “I have a feeling that’s not true”, Cullen muttered, his fingers going to where his sword would hang had he been awake. Finding himself unarmed, he cursed.

     “Solas?” Lea called. “What do you see?”

     There was no reply. Only a chilly breeze – far colder than what usually came through these woods.

     “Solas?” Cullen called. “Answer us if you can hear us. What do you see?”

     “ _Manala_ …”

     “Water”, Lea translated. There was no water in the glade. Cullen ran a hand through his hair, pursed his lips in thought.

     “What kind of water?” he asked. “Any kind?”

     “I… think _manala_ means a lake. Or a pond. It’s not a river or stream, at least.”

     Cullen nodded – and then marched off towards the forest. Lea hurried to follow him, but the moment he stepped in between the trees he disappeared.

     She stopped, eyes widening in shock.

     “Cullen?” she called. No response. The wind rustled the leaves above her head once more.

     “Cullen!” she shouted. “Solas!”  
     “ _Vhenan_ …”

     Solas’ voice was slightly stronger again. It was as if he had trouble staying awake – as if him whispering _eth_ earlier had been at a point when he was nearly gone and, now, he was forcing himself back to life again.

     “ _Vhenan… himana… vhenan… vhenan!_ ”

     His voice rose, a hint of panic seeping into the words. Lea tried to pinpoint where it was coming from and then took off into the trees. The moment the forest surrounded her it grew colder, darker, greyer.

     The glade had still been somewhat under Solas’ control. This part – the forest – was not. The trees looked like silver rods, with spiky thorns growing out of their branches instead of leaves. The wind was freezing cold and even though it blew no harder than a breeze, it howled in her ears.

     And still brought Solas’ voice.

     “Where am I?” he called. “ _Vhenan_ , I’m… where am I?”

     “I’ll find you”, she replied. “I’ll always find you.”

     “Where am I?”

     A crossroads appeared in front of her, with three paths leading in different directions. She saw no difference between the paths – and the wind’s howling made it impossible to tell where Solas’ voice came from. She cursed in every language she could think of while the mage’s plea to tell him where he was rang in her ears.

     “Where am I, _vhenan_? Where am I? I’m… _himana_ …”

     Drowning. Lea ran her fingers through her hair, gripping it so hard that her scalp burned with pain.

     “I’ll find you”, she promised, “but Cullen… Solas, speak to Cullen!”

     “Where…”

     “Cullen’s searching for you”, she called. “Tell him what you see. Look through the water. Guide him.”

     Solas did not reply. She hoped that meant he had heard her – and was doing as she said. With a shaking exhale she dropped her hands from her head. Her eyes locked on the faintly glowing Anchor.

     “You like Solas as much as I do”, she said, looking at it. “Find him. Find the right path.”

     She held up her hand towards the first path. The Anchor did not react. Nor did it react when she held it up in front of the second path. Despite beginning to doubt that this idea of hers was valid, she still held her palm up towards the third.

     The Anchor sparked and flared.

     “Good job”, she told it with a grin and took off down the path. It might have been her imagination, but she thought the Anchor purred in delight at being praised.

     They passed through five more crossroads, each with more paths than the previous ones, and the Anchor kept leading her. Lea felt more than knew due to facts that they were getting closer.

     And then she stumbled out into a clearing identical to the one she had just left – other than the fact that at the opposite end of it was a circular pond, the surface as smooth as dark blue glass.

     At the same time Cullen burst through the trees next to the pond, threw himself onto the shore and plunged his hands into the water. He let out a startled cry as ice began to crawl up his arms.

     “Cullen!”

     He glanced up at her as she ran towards him, gritted his teeth, and then gave a hard tug upwards.

     The pond shattered as if it had been a mirror, letting the Commander of the Inquisition pull the trapped elf free.

     Solas retched, his whole body trembling with the effort to stay up on his hands and knees. Cullen had managed to enter the Fade with his cloak and quickly pulled it off, covering the shivering elf just as Lea reached them. Solas gripped the thick fabric with one hand as he sat back up. Cullen steadied him so that he would not fall, while Lea knelt down and framed his face with her hands. He opened his eyes to look at her.

     “ _Vhenan_ …” he croaked.

     “What the hell was that?” Cullen asked, eyeing the pond that had gone back to looking like glass. Solas turned slightly to look at it. He had to swallow a few times before his voice was able to carry.

     “A trap. Someone… trapped me.”

     “How?” Lea asked.

     “There… is a plant…”

     Cullen cursed.

     “Either one of the healers did this”, he said, “or someone added that plant to the mixture they used on your wounds.”

     Solas blinked – and then his eyes widened slightly. He spun to look at Lea, tentatively reaching a hand up to touch the one that had remained on his face while he had turned to look at the water.

     “You… survived”, he breathed. “I… I feared…”

     “We’re not talking about this here”, she interrupted. “Once you’ve healed, we’re going to have a serious discussion about you nearly getting yourself killed. Twice.”

     Solas shot her an all-too familiar glare. That almost made her smile; it was a sure sign her stubborn friend was beginning to feel better.

     “How do we get back out of here?” Cullen asked.

     “We wake up”, Lea replied, eyeing Solas for confirmation.

     “I’d suggest we do it in a protected place”, he said. “Not here.”

     He rose on unsteady legs, stumbled slightly as he took a step forward. Lea immediately grabbed his left arm to hold him up, while Cullen grabbed his right. Solas hissed.

     “Commander”, he said through gritted teeth, “your hands…”

     Cullen looked down and cursed. His hands had turned blue with cold and there were still flecks of ice on his forearms.

     “Tell me the truth”, he said, looking up at Solas again. “Will this stay on once I wake up?”

     “It might”, Solas replied. He frowned thoughtfully.

     “Let me.”

     He gave Lea a look to tell her to let go of him, before moving his hands so that encased Cullen’s right one. Lea watched as both men kept their heads bent, eyes on the blue cold as it slowly receded.

     The way they stood, foreheads almost touching, made the scene look private. Intimate. Lea was not sure if she should look away – or keep looking. In the end, she went with the latter, watching as Solas moved his hands to Cullen’s left arm instead – and how Cullen’s newly healed right hand came to rest on Solas’ left shoulder.

     She caught herself in the last moment from sucking in a sharp breath, as she remembered this was not the first time Cullen had held the elf’s shoulder.

     As she realized just who had saved Solas from dying when trying to save her from the Nightmare’s vision.

     Solas dropped his hands and took a step back, swaying slightly and prompting Cullen to tighten his grip – and Lea to move forward. None of them spoke as they walked in among the trees and – somehow – immediately found themselves in the glade they were meant to be in. The colours slowly returned all around them, as if Solas’ mere presence had repainted them.

     “Wake up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to include this scene with Dorian because it's one of my absolute faves - but I wasn't sure how to do it, hence why this chapter took some time :) Also realized after posting this that this thing turned out to be full of clues as to what the future holds for all of these people...
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed!


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I don’t know who you are”, she continued, “but I’m looking for a friend. Tall, dark-haired, rugged looking guy. It seems his tent has been vacated.”_   
>  _No steps. The person she was talking to was standing still._   
>  _“You haven’t seen him, have you?” she asked. “He might be in danger.”_   
>  _“Who is this friend?”_   
>  _The voice was male – and, judging by the accent, Fereldan. Whoever it belonged to must be standing closer than she had anticipated, because he was definitely not shouting or even raising his voice._

They came to in Cullen’s tent, all three of them. Solas groaned on the cot. Now that he was awake, he was in obvious pain. Pain that sleep could have helped him work through.

     But if he had been drugged by someone intent on killing him…

     “I can smell it on the bandages”, he rasped, then moved as if to remove them. Lea cursed and rose. Solas’ hands were indeed on the bandages, but he was fumbling with them. Too weak to remove them himself.

     “Stay with him”, Cullen ordered. Then he disappeared out of the tent. Solas’ eyes followed him, then returned to Lea.

     “Can you hold out until he gets back?” she asked and sat down next to him.

     “Yes”, Solas replied. He sounded somewhat chagrined. She could not help but smile when she realized it was because he could not do this on his own. Because he needed help. He glared at her when she realized this piece of truth. Then that glare weakened and disappeared as he lay back against the pillows with a sigh.

     “I thought I’d lose you”, he said, eyes on the ceiling. Her smile left her face instantly.

     “What do you think I thought when you were stabbed?”

     He winced.

     “You had drained yourself, Solas”, she pushed on. “I saw it, during the battle. Dorian did as well. And yet you…”

     She faltered, hands fisting the sheets. Her mind was replaying the image of Solas on the ground, Dorian lifting him up. The blood.

     “I was certain you were dead”, she whispered, “and that… I thought my heart had been ripped out of my chest, yet I was still alive.”

     Solas inhaled sharply.

     “ _Vhenan_ ”, he said, “even if I’d died…”

     “Don’t you dare”, she growled. He fell silent at once.

     “Yes, I’d still have Cullen. Yes, I’d still have Dorian. I’d still have everyone that I love and care about in this bloody place… except for you. I wouldn’t have you any more, Solas. And that thought alone…”

     His hand found hers, coaxed her fingers apart.

     “ _Ir abelas_.”

     He was still holding her hand when Cullen returned, followed by Dorian. The mage looked like he had just been dragged out of bed – and he was fuming.

     “I knew something was wrong about that smell”, he growled. Lea blinked at him, then looked at Cullen.

     “I assumed Dorian would be able to help us”, the Commander replied, eyeing Solas as he spoke. “If we have a potential murderer hiding among the healers, we need to find him or her before it’s too late. It is possible others have already died, if the same plant has been used on all the wounded.”

     “It’s a rare plant”, Solas replied. “I doubt they had enough for more than half a dozen coatings.”

     “No doubt they then decided to focus on the ones they’d otherwise have trouble to dispose of”, Lea said and rose. The three men in the tent frowned at her as she hurried towards the entrance.

     “Where is Hawke?” she asked. Cullen’s eyes widened, while Dorian let out a string of curses.

     “If his bandages smell the same, get them off him at once”, the Tevinter ordered. “I don’t remember them doing so, but I was only in the tent for a short while – and the bandages might have been changed since. Get them off and give him a pinch of this mixed with water.”

     He tossed a small container through the air, which Lea caught easily.

     “I’ll see about the other injured”, Cullen said. Dorian nodded.

     “If you find any others, get back here and I’ll give you the antidote. In the meantime, I’ll help Solas into something far better smelling. I’ve scented these bandages with roses.”  
     Solas shot the other mage an exasperated look – and that was the last thing Lea saw before taking off out of the tent. Cullen followed and quickly pointed her in the direction of where Hawke was. He then walked off in the opposite direction, towards the healers’ tents.

     Hawke’s tent was smaller than her own. Far from fitting for the Champion of Kirkwall, but then again Hawke did not seem like someone who flaunted his skills and title. In fact, Lea knew very little of him besides what Varric had told her – and most of his stories were vastly exaggerated. As she now pushed the tent flap aside, she vowed that she would ask Hawke to tell her more before they parted ways.

     She had not expected the tent to already be vacated.

     There were no bedrolls, no pack of items, no armour or weapons. It was just an empty shell.

     But it did smell of the same mixture as Solas’ bandages had. The fact that it was such a potent smell made her want to cover her nose – and wonder just how much more had been used on Hawke’s bandages compared to Solas’. And why. And how the hell Hawke had still managed to disappear.

     _He can’t have gone far_ , she thought and walked out of the tent again. As she did, her foot came down on something hard. A coin, but not one she recognized from any nation. In fact it was not even stamped with a value. Perhaps it was an amulet of sorts.

     In the light of one of the nearby campfires, she managed to see the outline of what she realized was a constellation. Sixteen embossed stars connected by thin lines.

     “ _Silentir_ ”, she murmured, running her thumb over the engraving in thought. The constellation that looked like a man holding a pair of scales.

     What the hell was an amulet like this doing outside of Hawke’s tent?

     And where was Hawke?

     Muttering under her breath, she put the amulet in her pocket, then made her way towards where the horses were kept. Hawke would not have left his horse – which meant someone there might have noticed something. Anything.

     She did not expect to find the stable guard snoring.

     “What the bloody hell is going on?” she groaned, nudging the guard with her boot. Other than uttering an inappropriate phrase in his sleep, the guard did not react.

     The sound of boots made Lea pause. It was not the sound of someone walking or running nearby, perhaps to check if things were alright. These were the steps of someone attempting to be sneak away.

     Their alleged poisoner, perhaps?

     “Is there a reason you’re sneaking around by the horses?” she asked, not taking her eyes off the guard. The steps faltered. Definitely in front of her, not behind her.

     “I don’t know who you are”, she continued, “but I’m looking for a friend. Tall, dark-haired, rugged looking guy. It seems his tent has been vacated.”

     No steps. The person she was talking to was standing still.

     “You haven’t seen him, have you?” she asked. “He might be in danger.”

     “Who is this friend?”

     The voice was male – and, judging by the accent, Fereldan. Whoever it belonged to must be standing closer than she had anticipated, because he was definitely not shouting or even raising his voice.

     Which meant she was at a clear disadvantage. She had the light at her back, making the open-walled stable nothing but shadows that sometimes moved, sometimes did not, while he saw her very well. If she did something that might be perceived as a threat, he would be able to either flee or attack before she had fully realized where he was.

     “Some call him the Champion of Kirkwall”, she replied to the question. For a while, all she could hear were the soft sounds of the horses.

     “I came to collect his horse. He’s not far.”

     Lea frowned – a frown that deepened when a man stepped into the light, just enough to let her see his features. Human, fair skinned, with a hood pulled up to hide most of his features. He did, however, carry a staff on his back.

     If he was – as he claimed – Hawke’s friend, that narrowed down the list considerably. Especially considering his Fereldan accent.

     “Hawke sent a message for me before the battle, asking that I help with the injured”, the man said. “I did not anticipate him being one of them – or that he’d be in such a bad state when I found him outside the camp.”

     “Is he alright?” Lea asked.

     “I’ve removed the bandage – and I know the antidote to the poison and will be able to help him get back to his feet, once I’ve found the ingredients. And once that is done…”

     He paused, seeming to suddenly realize that he might be oversharing.

     “Hawke saved my life”, Lea said. “I can help him.”

     The man studied her for a while, his eyes going to her left hand. At the moment the Anchor was not flaring, which meant she was not showcasing a green tint on her palm, but she scar was still there.

     Although there were many with scars on their palms. He could not be certain she was the Inquisitor just by looking at that.

     “I know who you are”, she told him. “Not that difficult to deduce – and I am quite sure you’d be able to kill me in a flash if I did something that endangered Hawke’s life. So I’m begging you, Anders, please let me save him.”

     The man inhaled sharply at the sound of his name. Lea, in turn, tried not to move. Not to react to being right.

     And not think about what everyone else would order her to do they knew just who was standing in front of her.

     Anders. The mage who had blown Kirkwall to pieces. Who was possessed by a corrupted spirit of Justice. And who had only been permitted to live thanks to that Hawke – according to Varric – just had not been able to order his close friend to be executed.

     Speaking of Varric, the dwarf would probably have been happy to see the mage here. In his stories him and Anders always seemed to get along splendidly. Though, very few did not get along with Varric.

     “Come with me, then.”

     Anders’ voice was so soft that she hardly heard him. She only realized he had spoken when he turned and moved back in among the horses, untying Hawke’s from its pole. She followed as he led it out the back, away from the firelight, and effortlessly swung up. When he held out a hand to help her get on as well, she accepted it, and then they were off into the night.

     Just as Anders had claimed, they did not need to go far in order to find Hawke. Though Lea had not expected him to be bound.

     “I had to”, Anders said, answering her unspoken question. “The poison was driving him mad. He was seeing things.”

     So it worked differently on different people, perhaps depending on if they were awake or asleep. Hawke was very much awake, looking up as they neared, but his eyes were wild. He did not seem to recognize her.

     “I’ll wring your neck, demon”, he spat.

     “And I’ll save your life”, she replied. “That’s a good trade, I imagine.”

     Anders gave her an incredulous look – and then, to her surprise, he smiled.

     “I see why Hawke likes you, Inquisitor”, he said.

     “You figured it out?”

     “As you put it; it was not that difficult to deduce. Now, since you claim you’re able to save him, I assume you have the antidote?”  
     “I do”, she replied and took out the small container. “It needs water.”

     Anders hummed, then grabbed a pack not far from where Hawke was sitting and pulled out a flask. As he unscrewed the cork, she added a pinch of the herbal mixture to it. He gave the flask a quick shake.

     “If you administer the antidote, I’ll hold him in place”, he suggested. Lea nodded and watched as Anders used both magic and physical force to keep Hawke steady, force his mouth open – and somehow avoided getting hit by Hawke throwing his head back against him.

     “This is for your own good, Hawke”, she told him, then poured the mixture into his mouth. He coughed, but Anders pressed some nerve on his neck that made him reflexively swallow. They repeated the procedure twice before Lea saw a slow change in Hawke’s eyes. Recognition. Confusion. She met Anders’ gaze and the mage let go.

     “Lea?” Hawke said, frowning. “What… why am I tied up? Why… Anders?”

     “Hello, Hawke”, Anders said with a hint of a smile. “Welcome back.”

     Hawke stared at the two of them, then seemed to realize he was being rude and closed his mouth.

     “I assume me being tied up is a bad thing and not some kinky game”, he said.

     “I think Fenris would chase me to the end of the world if that was the case”, Anders replied and untied the ropes binding Hawke with a wave of his hand.

     “You were poisoned”, Lea clarified, “and had apparently left camp. Anders found you, tied you up, went to get your horse… and that’s where I stumbled upon him while searching for you. That’s the abbreviated version.”

     “Poisoned?” Hawke asked. “How?”

     “A plant mixed in with the healing herbs that the bandages were dipped in. Solas suffered from it as well.”

     She hesitated, then reached a hand into her pocket and pulled out the amulet.

     “I found this outside your tent”, she told Hawke. “Does it mean anything?”

     Hawke studied the coin, then handed it to Anders. Both looked equally perplexed.

     “I recognize the constellation”, Anders said as he handed it back, “but I do not know what it means.”

     “In Kirkwall, assassins and mercenaries of certain guilds always carried a token of some sort”, Hawke pointed out. “This might be something akin to that.”

     “Yes”, Anders snorted, “the Guild of Stars. Or perhaps the Men With Scales.”

     “Those are terrible names, Anders. I’m glad you never gave our group one.”

     “Who says I didn’t?”

     Lea crossed her arms and gave both men a look that she hoped conveyed just how much their little bantering session did not help her. Clearing his throat, Hawke attempted to get serious once more.

     “Any others?” he asked.

     “Not that we know of yet”, she replied. “Cullen went to check the healers’ tents, while I went off in search of you. Your tent stunk far worse than Solas’, which makes me think whoever did this… either they thought Solas would not need that much due to the severity of his injury, or they were more interested in getting to you.”

     “And only warning Solas”, Hawke filled in. He was frowning deeply.

     “As much a threat as Corypheus is to the world”, Anders suddenly said, “I don’t think he’s behind this. He wouldn’t target Hawke and this other man you’re discussing specifically, I imagine.”

     Lea nodded, agreeing.

     “Then we just have to find out what other forces are working against us.”

     Hawke grumbled, then attempted to rise. His legs gave way beneath him and he would most likely have fallen flat on his face if Anders had not reacted to his stumbling and caught him, slinging one of the Champion’s arms over his shoulders.

     “Bloody…” Hawke begun.

     “You might have gotten your sanity back”, Lea said, “but you’re still not fully healed.”

     She glanced at Anders for confirmation. If Varric’s stories were correct, the mage was not only possessed by a demon and responsible for the destruction of Kirkwall, but also one of the best healers out there.

     “Depending on how much you were dosed with”, Anders said, “it might take a few days before you have fully recovered.”

     “So”, Hawke sighed, “no running away into the night for me, then?”

     “You’d actually planned on doing that?” Lea asked. The Champion winced slightly – and her eyes widened in shock.

     “You were? You’d actually planned on just leaving?”

     “Honestly?” Hawke sighed. “Yes. After Kirkwall… I’m not always welcome to stick around. Not when things are settling down, when there’s not a major battle to fight…”

     So that was why he had been hiding when Cassandra and Leliana started to look for someone who could lead the Inquisition, before Evelyn Trevelyan appeared. He had worried about the repercussions.

     “Hawke”, she said slowly, “what do you see when you look at the Inquisition?”

     He frowned at her.

     “What I see? I see people following a just and wise leader, who won’t send them all ahead to their deaths but joins them in the endeavour. Who inspires them, cares for them, and who will one day save the world.”

     She snorted.

     “Seriously?”

     “Yes.”

     She fell silent, having thought he was joking with her – but Hawke’s gaze was as steady and serious as it could possibly get.

     “Well, that was more what you see when you look at me”, she muttered and turned away, hoping that her blush was not too apparent in the darkness. Hawke chuckled.

     “Aren’t they one and the same?” he asked. “The Inquisition is what it is because you made it that way.”

     “Not just me”, she argued. “When I came into the picture… Evelyn Trevelyan had already done so much. As had Cullen, and Josephine and Leliana, and Cassandra… I don’t think I’d have an Inquisition to lead if they hadn’t been there before me. Making people shut up about their differences and work together.”

     She looked in the direction of the camp. With its campfires and – on one end – funeral pyres, it was easy to see in the darkness. A mass of light and shadows.

     “This organization has brought people together. Men and women, mages and Templars, apostates and Circle supporters, Orlesians, Fereldans, Tevinters, Qunari, elves… it’s all of us, together.”

     She turned towards the two men again. It took her eyes a few moments to get used to the darkness in order to see their expressions. Hawke’s eyes were on the camp. Anders’ were on her. Thoughtful.

     “The Chantry…” he begun.

     “In all the documents, the Chantry rules us”, Lea agreed. “In reality, they don’t. They can’t.”

     “I… think I understand”, Hawke slowly said. “Kirkwall was a boiling cauldron – and too much was added to it. It destroyed itself. The Inquisition is… well, in a way it’s a cauldron as well, but it expands as new things are added. Accommodates them. Integrates them.”

     “I’m starting to get worried your head isn’t quite alright yet”, Lea said with a smile, “if that’s your way of creating a metaphor.”

     Hawke’s mouth widened in a grin.

     “Nah. I’ve never felt better.”  
     Anders snorted.

     “Seriously, though”, Lea said, “you don’t have to leave, Hawke. These people… yes, some would talk. When soldiers are not put to work, they gossip worse than maidens around a well. Kirkwall would come up. Some would still be judgemental of what happened there. But more of them would toss that aside and point out the good things. The things that you did for the good of the people of Kirkwall – and what you’ve done for the Inquisition.”

     She paused to take a breath.

     “If you decide to stay – even if it’s just for a little while – you would be most welcome. And if you decide to leave, Skyhold would await your return. The same goes for you, Anders.”

     The mage visibly jumped as she addressed him. He had obviously not anticipated being included in this impromptu declaration of hers. Honestly, she had not either, but there was something about that man that just made her want to hug him and tell him things would be alright.

     In a way, he reminded her of Dorian.

     “I… the decision is yours”, she said as the silence stretched on, “and I should probably not be here to influence it further, so I’m going to make my way back to camp, get some rest, and let you boys decide what to do. But whatever happens… it was good meeting you, Anders. And Hawke… thank you. For everything.”

     She hoped he understood that she was not just referring to him bringing her out of the Fade.

     After leaving the two men in the darkness and making her way back to camp – while wondering why no one had reacted to her leaving or Anders entering earlier, but then deciding it was probably due to some spell cast by the renegade mage – she walked back into Cullen’s tent. Solas was asleep once more, but his bandages smelled clean. She told Dorian – who was still there – that Hawke had been poisoned but would be fine, that the antidote had been administered, and then repeated the same words to Cullen when he returned moments later. He, in turn, told them that he had found no other bandages smelling of the sickly sweet plant that had caused all of this – but that did not mean no other victims were planned. They just had to keep an eye out, but in the meantime acting as if nothing was amiss. As if they had not even known of the poisoning to begin with.

     By the end of that discussion dawn was approaching and Lea could suddenly feel just how tired she was. She had not gotten enough sleep in these two last nights by far – what with the siege of Adamant, falling into the Fade, becoming the worst version of herself, and trying to save both Solas and Hawke. As well as dreading what would happen if she did fall asleep.

     She desperately wished that coffee was a thing in Thedas.

     “Get some rest”, Cullen softly ordered her after Dorian left.

     “Doubt I can”, Lea replied, while yawning. “I’m exhausted, but my mind’s too busy.”

     Which was also true. She could not let go of what the amulet might mean. Neither Cullen or Dorian had recognized it as a symbol belonging to a cult of some sort. Cullen had suggested the same thing as Hawke – that it was the mark of a guild of mercenaries or assassins – but none of them knew what that guild might be. Or what they wanted. Why they had targeted Solas and Hawke specifically.

     If they wanted to get to her, Solas would be a good choice of a target. As would Cullen and Dorian. Hawke… yes, they were friends. Yes, she would have been very upset if he had not survived. But he was not the obvious choice.

     If it had to do with people who could influence others, Hawke would have been an obvious candidate, being the Champion of Kirkwall. And if someone knew the truth of Solas’ past, he would also have been a good choice. But that did not explain why they had given Hawke a much larger dose. Was it because Solas was that badly injured – because they thought he would be easier to take down in his current state? Or was it as she suspected; that Hawke had been the one they wanted to kill, and Solas the one they wanted to warn away from something?

     “Lea.”

     Cullen’s soft voice, accompanied by a pair of strong hands on her shoulders, woke her from her thoughts. She looked up into his golden eyes. Noted the slight frown on his forehead. He was worried.

     “I’ll be fine”, she promised and attempted a smile. He let out a long breath, then pulled her closer into a warm embrace.

     “Sometimes”, he said, “you worry too much about the rest of us.”

     “Isn’t that my job?” she asked, trying to sound like she was making a jest.

     “No”, Cullen replied, “it’s who you are. And it’s one of the things I love about you – but also one of the things that makes me worried you won’t…”

     He fell silent.

     “Won’t what?” she asked and looked up at him. He sighed.

     “It makes me worried”, he said slowly, “that you won’t let the rest of us worry about you. Take care of you. Help you. Not when you think it might endanger us.”

     _Crap_ , Lea thought. Her mind had been going in that direction a few times lately. That maybe it was better if she sought out Corypheus alone. Taunted him into facing her alone. Fought him without having to worry about anyone else getting hurt or injured or worse.

     The logical part of her mind had been pointing out the flaws in this plan, of course, but as sleep deprived as she was the more emotional driven part of her had felt stronger. Felt right.

     “Can you promise me one thing?” Cullen asked.

     “What?” she asked.

     “That every once in a while, you’ll step back. Let someone else take the reins just for a day.”

     His lips twitched up in a smile.

     “It was what you told me months ago, wasn’t it?” he said. “That it wouldn’t do to let the Commander of the Inquisition run himself into a wall because he couldn’t stop working.”

     She smiled as well. That was true. She had been worried about him constantly working, pushing himself too hard, and had ordered that for one day every week he had to do something besides working. Let his officers deal with training – or Cassandra. It was why he had taken to playing chess with Dorian or Leliana in the gardens. Or, later, with her.

     She doubted he actually took that full day off every week, but at least he did something else for a few hours besides going over documents and war plans and overseeing training and patrols.

     It would not do if she went against her own advice.

     “I’ll try.”

* * *

Returning to Skyhold was an incredible feeling. Lea had not realized just how much she had missed the place – or just how long she had been away. Now, as they rode across the drawbridge into the courtyard, meeting the people who had remained behind while the spring sun shone down on them and made the snow on the peaks around them gleam like diamonds… this was home.

     She was home.

     “Inquisitor!”

     Lea felt her lips widen in a wide smile as she spotted Josephine descending the stairs – and before she could think better of it she left her horse to one of the servants, hurried up to meet the darker skinned woman and gave her a hug. Josephine froze, briefly, and then returned the hug, her wooden board clattering to the stones as she did.

     “Christ, I’ve missed you”, Lea said as she pulled back. The Antivan woman smiled.

     “You’ve been missed here as well”, she said. Then, as she looked out over the crowd of people now milling about the courtyard, she frowned.

     “I… see you’ve picked up a newcomer”, she said. Lea followed her gaze to the blond man walking next to Varric. Looking back at Josephine, she was not surprised to see a faint hint of a blush on her advisor’s cheeks. Not to wonder; Anders was not exactly bad looking. Rather the opposite.

     “Do you want me to introduce you?” she asked with a smug smile.

     “I…”

     “Ruffles!” Varric shouted below them. “Just who I was looking for.”

     Lea held back a grin as Josephine attempted to descend the stairs without her blush deepening even further – and also noted that Anders looked exceedingly uncomfortable. She would not be surprised if it was later revealed that he had been looking at Josephine as well.

     “Well”, Hawke said, coming up the stairs to join her, “it seems I owe you ten silvers.”

     “That you do”, Lea replied as they headed up to the doors of the keep itself. Her and Hawke had shared a drink two nights earlier and he had voiced his worry about Anders. While travelling, the mage had been able to blend in with the rest of the group – and after what they had suffered at Adamant, his skills as a healer were greatly appreciated. But things would change once they got to Skyhold.

     As she had put it; soldiers without anything to do gossiped worse than maidens around a well.

     And they brawled worse than the drunkest patrons at a bar.

     Thus, slightly inebriated, she had told Hawke that she bet there would be something at Skyhold that would keep Anders there – and help him. Hawke had taken the bet, somewhat amused but still firmly believing that, after one night at Skyhold, he would wake up and find that Anders had left.

     Lea had not intended on Josephine being what kept Anders around – but by the looks of it…

     “May I cut in?” Cullen asked, appearing behind them as they entered the keep. He had been antsy ever since Anders joined them. The mage was, after all, a clear reminder of Kirkwall. And of everything that had once made Cullen stay the hell away from mages.

     “Of course not”, Hawke said, giving the Commander a pat on the shoulder before going back down the stairs, joining Bull and Dorian as they helped unloading one of the carts. Lea turned her gaze away from the trio to look at Cullen. He looked… nervous. Anxious.

     Her smile died.

     “What’s wrong?” she asked.

     “I… come with me.”

     He took her hand and pulled her with him to the door that led to the stairs to her tower. Tension rolled off his shoulders as he tugged her with him up to her quarters. If he had not seemed so anxious, she would have thought he had brought her up here to privately celebrate their return to Skyhold.

     Now, instead, he let go of her hand and walked towards the balcony doors, one hand going to rub at the back of his neck.

     “Cullen, what’s wrong?” she asked, taking a few steps after him.

     “I know about you and Solas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so this chapter ended up a bit longer than I had anticipated, but there were quite a few things I needed to get involved in the story. Those being the amulet/sneaky assassin, Anders joining the crew, a little bit of Lea's mental state... and Cullen revealing that he knows about Lea and Solas. How? Well, I'd suggest you guys head over to the _short story/deleted scene_ I posted a few days back, which is set during Chapter 28 but is from Cullen's POV! It's [right here!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13419336)
> 
> I actually have more deleted scenes planned - mainly from Cullen's, Solas' or Dorian's POV - and I will post them all eventually. So make sure you keep an eye on the series - which has now received its actual name!
> 
> Anyway, guys, hope you enjoyed this chapter and the bonus scene! I'll try to post the next one soon :)


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _At first glance, it looked like a large mirror, perhaps three times her own height. The surface of the glass, however, seemed to swirl in a multitude of colours, like oil on water._   
>  _“This”, Morrigan said, “is and eluvian. An elven artefact, from a time long before their empire was lost to human greed.”_   
>  _Lea brushed the frame of the mirror with her fingers. Although it looked like wood, it seemed to pulse and hum beneath her touch. As if it was something very much alive._

The words Cullen had spoken turned over in her head. Over and over and over. An endless merry-go-round of words and confusion and a tangled mess of feelings, questions and answers.

     Nothing made sense anymore.

     _“I know about you and Solas”, Cullen had said, “and… I just want you to know that… it’s alright.”_

_“Alright?” had been her reply, once the shock had settled somewhat. “Alright how? Is it alright that I’ve fallen in love with another man while also loving you? Kissing him when you’re not around? Is it alright? For anyone of us?”_

_“I… if this had happened months ago, I would have despised you for it. Hated Solas. Felt betrayed. But now… I can’t explain why, but I don’t.”_

She leaned her head back against the wall. That was not even the most confusing part of what he had told her. That came later – after she had continued to rant about how it was not fair to either him or Solas that she felt like this and that she should just end it and vow to live in celibacy for the rest of her days. Honestly, the Chantry would most likely be very pleased with her if she announced that as her next move.

     But then Cullen had gone ahead and said the thing that had sent her mind reeling.

     _“If you want, we could… try… all three of us.”_

     He must have spoken to Dorian. Not that she thought Dorian had ratted her out – most likely Cullen had heard the rumours and found enough evidence to support them in order to confront her – but in order to even suggest such a thing… well, Dorian had suggested the same thing to her while they were riding for Adamant. She would not be surprised if he had, by now, also told Cullen. And possibly Solas – though the mage had not approached her on the matter.

     Yet.

     She had claimed she needed some air, had fled up on the battlements, gone around them until she was as high up as she could get; the parapet outside the rookery. The doors were closed, but through the open windows she could hear the cawing of ravens. And the occasional footsteps, but none heading outside. Thankfully. If one of Leliana’s spies found her out here now they would have a field day.

     _“We could… try… all three of us.”_

“Madness”, she muttered, then glared at the Anchor, now only a faint, slightly discoloured line on her palm. “You don’t have anything to do with this, do you? Because I’ll be damned if this all comes from your powers.”

     Of course, the Anchor did not answer. She would have liked it better if it had – but it seemed intent on only helping her when there was magic involved.

     Which either meant this had nothing to do with magic – or that the Anchor was powerless to do anything about it.

     Damn.

     Peering down from the wall, she watched the people in the gardens. What she could see of them anyway. There were more people wearing Chantry robes now than when she left. That bothered her slightly. Hopefully they would not try to bring the Inquisition back fully under their control; they worked better as their own force, not as something to be moved about on a chess board.

     But it was growing insanely big.

     Riding into Skyhold she had been shocked by the small village that had appeared outside the walls in the valley. Not just tents, but real houses, quickly built out of wood and rock and isolated with hay and mud. And the place itself had undergone some serious repairs. Towers that had previously been a ruin had started to spiral back into the sky. The stables had expanded, the gardens looked less rugged, and one of the servants had even mentioned functioning baths found below the dungeons, carved into the mountainside. _Hot_ baths. She wondered how long one had to wait in line to get to one of those.

     “You seem lost in thought.”

     Lea jumped where she sat. She had not heard the door to her left open – or the fact that Leliana had stepped out. The spymaster gave her a small smile.

     “And you nearly sent me falling to my death”, Lea remarked.

     “I doubt that’d be enough to kill you.”

     “Really? Considering all the supernatural forces that I’ve managed to evade, I’m beginning to think I’ll die of something really stupid. Like… falling off a horse because I haven’t tightened the girth properly.”

     Leliana closed the door and sat down on the wall opposite her.

     “I heard of your little dilemma”, she said. Lea huffed.

     “Nothing escapes you, does it?”

     “I am trained to see and hear things”, Leliana replied, “and considering one subject of your affection lives two floors below where we now stand and has been easy to observe for me since we got here…”

     She let her voice trail off. Lea sighed and leaned her head back against the wall of the rookery.

     “Any suggestions?”

     “None that would help any of you much.”

     Lea turned her gaze back to the spymaster, only to find her gaze focused on something unseen in the distance.

     “I travelled with the Hero of Ferelden, you know”, she said, “and… we were intimate. Briefly. Until I found out one of our other companions, Zevran, had also garnered his interest. I confronted him and he went away to think things through. In the end… he chose neither of us. He died.”

     Lea felt as if she could not breathe. She had read about the Hero of Ferelden and had been aware that Leliana had travelled with him – and that Cullen had met him. But she had not expected this.

     “Isn’t Zevran the former Antivan Crow you let take care of that business with Lord Enzo?” she then asked with a frown. Leliana’s lips quirked upwards.

     “It may sound strange, but me and Zevran never hated one another for this. Rather we sought out each other’s comfort after Daylen died. For some time, at least. Then we both became caught up in the troubles of the world – in our own ways. I begun to serve Divine Justinia and Zevran struck out on his own. An assassin not bound to any guild. Varric told me him and Hawke met outside of Kirkwall during that whole affair and, judging by where his messages have been coming from now, he is still in the Free Marches or further north.”

     She paused.

     “But I did not come out here to talk about that.”

     Lea huffed again. Of course Leliana had had other things to discuss. The spymaster was far more focused on what needed to be done than Cullen or Josephine – though perhaps that came from what she had just revealed. Losing someone you love, having to find a way to continue forward, saving the world again…

     “Alright, so what’s up?” she said, swung her legs back onto the parapet and rose. Leliana hesitated but a moment before she also rose and gestured for Lea to accompany her into the rookery.

     “I received word that the Wardens have reached Weisshaupt. No one has disobeyed your order yet – from what I can perceive – and they will ride for Skyhold soon. On their way they’ll be dealing with what demons and Red Templars they can find – but also attempt to stay clear of the Venatori. They do not wish to fall further.”

     She sat down at her usual table, which was covered in reports from various people under her command. Coded – and as Lea had only been told how to use a fifth of the codes she spotted on the table, she did not even attempt to decipher the messages.

     “You dealt Corypheus a significant blow, Inquisitor”, Leliana continued.

     “I’m glad me running has done us some good”, Lea replied with a wry smile.

     “It did cause Corypheus to lose the army he would have used to conquer Thedas. However, he himself has not been present at either Adamant or Halamshiral – the two pivotal events that Evelyn saw in the future at Redcliffe.”

     The spymaster paused.

     “Before you left Skyhold”, she said, “you asked that we send people to investigate what Corypheus’ men were also looking into. The elven ruins in the south. And it seems he is now pulling all of his remaining forces towards that location.”

     “Have you found what he’s looking for?” Lea asked. Leliana shook her head.

     “Not yet. But we fear he is close to finding another way to enter the Fade. I suggest we meet in the war room soon to discuss this – and our next move.”

     “No rest for the wicked”, Lea sighed, then gave Leliana a small smile and nod. “People need to rest tonight. Let’s meet tomorrow morning.”

     She turned and walked towards the door, intending to head back outside.

     “What was she like?”

     Lea stopped and turned. Leliana had walked over to the banister, looking down into the rotunda far below. Her question had been soft, tentative.

     “Divine Justinia”, she clarified, without turning around, “or her soul, or the spirit that took her form… I know it isn’t clear, but…”

     For a moment, Lea wondered at the relationship between Leliana and the late Divine. It seemed like they had more history together than Cassandra and Justinia had had. To Cassandra, Divine Justinia had been a role model and the woman she served, believed in with all her heart. Whenever Leliana talked of her… it was almost like Justinia had been her family.

     “She seemed calm”, Lea replied after a short pause. “Serene, even. And she guided us the whole way through.”

     “That does sound like her.”

     “She did ask me… she asked me to give you a message. ‘I’m sorry, I failed you too.’”

     From where she stood, Lea could see Leliana’s shoulders slump. The spymaster let out what sounded a suspicious lot like a sob.

     And then she straightened.

     “I should finish this”, she said, once again all business, “before it slips my mind…”

     She begun to head off, then stopped again.

     “Perhaps… later we might discuss the matter further?”

     As Leliana turned, Lea gave her a gentle smile.

     “Of course.”

     Leliana’s shoulders slumped again.

     “Thank you”, she breathed. Then she left, heading down the stairs to the library. Lea wondered if she should follow. Perhaps seek out Dorian, or…

     Nope. Not a chance. Dorian would do nothing but push her in one specific direction – not help her sort out the tangled web in her mind.

     “Crap”, she muttered and headed back out onto the parapet, leaned against the wall she had previously been sitting on and gazing down at the garden. Why this now? If Leliana was right – and the spymaster was very rarely wrong – they would soon find themselves caught up in another campaign. And she needed to focus on that. Be the leader of the Inquisition, not some badly written soap opera character.

     Eventually, Lea gave up on brooding on the battlements and instead headed down to the gardens. As she had seen from above,there were indeed a lot more people there now than there had been before she left Skyhold and the parts that had been wild and untameable before had been forced into submission, making it look a lot more like a garden fit for royalty. Which she lamented a bit. She had liked the wilder parts of the garden; they had been like her own personal forest.

     “My, my”, a deep, sultry voice said behind her, “it seems the Inquisitor has returned victorious.”

     “Morrigan”, Lea greeted and nodded at the other woman as she took up a place next to her, looking out over the garden.

     “Am I correct in assuming this brooding look of yours has not just got to do with the affairs of the world?” the raven-haired mage asked. Lea decided not to reply. Morrigan already knew; she was that kind of person. And, apparently, that was the best course of action, because Morrigan seemed to abandon the topic and instead gestured for Lea to follow.

     “I have been informed that Corypheus is searching for something in the Arbor Wilds”, she said as they made their way around the outer edges of the garden.

     “He is”, Lea agreed. “Leliana thinks it’s something that will help him access the Fade.”

     Morrigan hummed in agreement.

     “Leliana and I might not always see eye to eye, but I agree with what her spies have found. I, however, might have some further insight into the matter.”

     Lea raised her eyebrows slightly.

     “Really? What is it then?”

     “It is what I intend to show you”, Morrigan replied. She turned right and walked towards a door at the bottom of one of the smaller towers at the back of the fortress. Opening it, she revealed a circular tower room, illuminated by light let in through the large windows. It seemed to have been used as nothing but a storage area – either by the Inquisition or by whoever had lived her previously. Most of the things in there were covered in thick layers of dust. Most. Not the object in the centre of the room, however.

     At first glance, it looked like a large mirror, perhaps three times her own height. The surface of the glass, however, seemed to swirl in a multitude of colours, like oil on water.

     “This”, Morrigan said, “is and _eluvian_. An elven artefact, from a time long before their empire was lost to human greed.”

     Lea brushed the frame of the mirror with her fingers. Although it looked like wood, it seemed to pulse with life. As if it was something very much alive.

     “I restored this one at great cost”, Morrigan continued, “but another lies within the Arbor Wilds. _That_ is what Corypheus seeks.”

     “It’s… beautiful”, Lea said, trying to make out the image that seemed hidden behind the swirling colours. “What does it do?”

     Morrigan’s lips curled upwards slightly. Then she made a gesture towards the mirror, looked as if she was throwing an invisible ball at it, and the mirror made a noise as if its glass had been shattered. Lea took a surprised step back as it, at the same time, started to glow blue.

     “A more appropriate question would be ‘Where does it lead?’”, Morrigan said. And then she stepped through the swirling surface of the _eluvian_.

     Lea gaped at the mirror, at where Morrigan had stepped through it. A gateway. A portal.

     _Where does it lead?_

     And could she trust Morrigan not to kill her when she had been lured away from Skyhold? The other woman had never acted like she would do such a thing, but she also was not someone Lea felt she could trust fully. Morrigan had her own agenda – and if Lea stood in her way…

     “Bloody paranoia”, Lea muttered to herself, then stepped through the mirror as well.

     Her foot touched down on a stone slab in what looked like a dark, misty graveyard. Something out of an old horror movie, really, except at closer inspection the objects surrounding her and Morrigan – who had obviously been waiting for her to come through the _eluvian_ – were not gravestones. They were other mirrors – other _eluvians_ – of various shapes and sizes. But unlike the one they had come through they did not glow or had a surface swirling like oil. They looked… dead.

     “If this place once had a name”, Morrigan said, “it has long been lost.”

     Lea stepped past her, down the stone steps to the ground. Packed dirt, sometimes covered with old stone tiles. From this angle, she realized that what she had first thought were trees were, in fact, old elven pillars, with circular crowns shapes like branches. She had seen the likes of them in an old ruin in the Hinterlands months ago.

     “I call it the Crossroads”, Morrigan continued, “a place where all _eluvians_ join… wherever they might be.”

     “This is… incredible”, Lea admitted. “You think this is how the ancient elves travelled between places?”

     “I am certain of it”, Morrigan replied. Lea made a mental note to check that with Solas. Did he even know that there was an _eluvian_ at Skyhold? That Morrigan had been fixing it?

     What would he have to say about this place?

     “It doesn’t feel like… where exactly are we?” Lea asked.

     “Somewhere between the real world and the Fade”, Morrigan replied.

     “And… we can travel anywhere from here?”

     “No.”

     Morrigan gestured at the other mirrors.

     “As you can see, most of them are dark; broken, corrupted or unusable. As for the rest… a few can be opened from this side. But only a few.”

     “Opened?” Lea asked with a frown. “Like locked doors?”

     “Just so”, Morrigan agreed. “Some of the _eluvians_ have been left unlocked, like doors left ajar. All others are closed. They can be opened only from beyond – with a key.”

     “What sort of key?”

     “It can be many things. Each _eluvian_ is different. I have knowledge as well as power – and often that is enough.”

     Lea considered her for a moment, wondered if perhaps she could give one of the locked _eluvians_ a go. But despite knowing things about the ancient elves she was certain Morrigan did not, she was not certain she knew enough.

     “How did you find out about this place?” she asked instead.

     “My travels have led me to many strange destinations, Inquisitor”, Morrigan replied. “Once they led me here. It offered sanctuary.”

     “Sanctuary?”

     “Not all the mirrors lead back to our world. The ancients were nothing if not… resourceful.”

     A cold hand gripped Lea’s heart.

     “You mean…”

     “Yes”, Morrigan agreed, “there are those that lead to the world you came from. And those that lead to little pockets of reality, like this one.”

     Lea found herself turning, trying to figure out which mirror – or mirrors – that could lead to Earth. From where they stood she could see perhaps a hundred shapes within the mist, but she had a feeling there were more further away. Thousands. And some might lead to Earth. Some might indeed give Corypheus the power to travel there as well – if he gained control of one of these objects. If that was indeed what was hidden deep within the Arbor Wilds.

     “You have made Corypheus desperate, Inquisitor”, Morrigan said, then started to walk back towards the Skyhold _eluvian_. “We must work together to stop him – and soon.”

     She walked through the shifting glass first, like before, while Lea paused to look at the object from this side. It seemed to be held up by two old statues, withered to the point where it was impossible to tell what they had originally looked like. Most of what was in this place seemed to be worn down to a point beyond recognition, the magic that had been used to create it slowly slipping away.

     That made her sad.

     Morrigan had already left the tower room when Lea returned, and judging by the dwindling light coming in through the windows they had been gone for a while, even though it had not felt like it. She quickly made her way into the great hall and grabbed a piece of bread and hard cheese, then gulfed both of them down on her way down the corridor.

     “There you are!”

     Varric’s voice startled her and made her turn away from the door leading out to the courtyard. The dwarf grinned.

     “I’ve been looking all over for you”, he said. “You’re just in time; we almost had to start without you.”

     “What?”

     Lea frowned at him. Was she late for something? For what? Varric chuckled at her confused expression, then gestured at her to follow. She did, too curious to leave it be. He led her into one of the rooms a floor down, near the kitchens, but it was not crowded with servants as she had expected. Instead it was crowded with her friends. Her advisors and her Inner Circle.

     Well, most of them. Vivienne was nowhere to be seen, nor Solas or Leliana. Hawke was there, but not Anders, and Sera was lying beneath the large, wooden table, already asleep. On the table were tankards of ale and a deck of cards.

     Lea might never have been to one, but she had seen enough movies and TV-series to recognize the setting of a poker night. Although here that game – with some small alterations – was called Wicked Grace.

     A chair scraped against the floor as Cullen rose, a faint tint of a blush on his cheeks. He was not looking straight at her as he spoke.

     “You seem to have enough people, and I have a thousand things to do…”

     “Losing money can be both relaxing and a habit forming”, Dorian said with a grin. “Give it a try, Commander.”

     “Curly”, Varric chuckled, “if any man in history ever needed a hobby, it’s you.”

     He gestured to Lea to take a seat next to Josephine, on the opposite side of the table from Cullen. He must have interpreted Cullen’s move as them having a bit of a lover’s quarrel. Which, to be fair, was not entirely wrong. She accepted her hand from the ambassador and tried to recall the rules. Cassandra was muttering about how she could never remember what was worth more, while Cole seemed more into trying to read the feelings of the characters depicted on them than actually playing.

     “Alright”, Josephine said once everyone had a hand of their own, “dealer starts. Oh, I… believe I’ll start at… three coppers! Or do you think that’s too daring?”

     “Three coppers?” Bull said, leaning forward onto the table. “Who starts at three coppers? Silver, or go home!”

     He put the coins down onto the table – a bet that was matched by Blackwall, Dorian and Varric. Lea pursed her lips slightly, eyeing her cards. If she was counting their value correctly, she had a good hand. Depending on what the others had, she should be able to match the bet of three silvers and not lose face entirely. What bothered her was Josephine. The ambassador was not someone who engaged in games – be they political or a friendly gamble – unless she was certain she could win them.

     So why start at three coppers? Why not just fold if she had a bad hand?

     “Are you in?” Varric asked, making her look up. Lea pretended to think for a few moments longer before smiling.

     “I’m in.”

* * *

Six games later, Lea found that her suspicion regarding Josephine had been correct. The Antivan had won four of them – and bluffed everyone around the table, including Lea, at least twice. No one seemed too bothered by that, however. In fact the tension that had been in the air at the start of this gaming night was gone, replaced by laughter, jokes and tales of old adventures. Lea could not remember when she had las seen Cullen smile like that when it was not just the two of them – and it made her feel warm inside. Suddenly her friends did not just see the stoic lion-hearted Commander, but the man beneath.

     “The poor recruit ran out into the dining hall in nothing but his knickers”, Cullen said, telling the tale of a memorable evening back when he had just become a Templar, “and this… profound silence fell over the hall as seventy mages and thirty templars all turned to stare at once. Then, a slow round of applause began, and spread until every soul was on their feet. A standing ovation!”

     Josephine giggled behind her hand.

     “What did he do?” she asked. Cullen grinned.

     “Saluted, turned on his heel, and marched out like he was in full armour.”

     Laughter boomed from everyone around the table at that image.

     “He did not!” Cassandra exclaimed, grinning widely as she slammed a hand down onto the wooden surface.

     “Good man”, Dorian commented.

     “You’re shitting us!” Bull got out while roaring with laughter.

     “That’s how you know it’s true”, Varric noted. “I could never put that in a book – too unlikely.”

     “Speaking of stories”, Lea said, “I think it’s high time our professional story teller told one of his own.”

     Varric grinned.

     “I think I can manage that. Did I ever tell you about the time we broke into Chaeatu Haine?”

     Hawke started coughing, prompting Dorian, sitting next to him, to smack him on the back.

     “As you can tell”, Varric said, “it’s a good one. And it starts, like most capers do, with a trap…”

     And thus begun a tale that included a wyvern hunt, a number of battles, fancy parties containing equal parts wine and seduction, and sneaking through unlit corridors trying to avoid the Duke’s guards. A glance at Hawke told Lea that Varric was mainly sticking to the truth – but in some occasions also spiced things up a bit. It all ended with the Duke falling off a cliff.

     “And at this point Hawke looks up”, Varric said with a grin, “and said ‘Looks like the Duke… has fallen from grace’.”

     Laughter erupted once more, while Hawke lay his head down onto the table with a groan.

     “What’s that for?” Dorian asked. “It’s a clever comment!”

     Hawke simply shook his head, then straightened and grinned.

     “Well, yes, quite clever – but that whole mission was a mess.”

     “Right with you”, Varric said.

     “Josie, can you deal us another hand?” Lea asked. Josephine jumped.

     “Oh, right, cards.”

     “And I think we need another round of drinks”, Lea continued.

     “I’ll get them”, Cullen said and rose, smiling at her. Her heart jumped at that smile – and almost made her want to follow him. But she was also scared that doing so would entail going through what had happened earlier that day. She did not want that. Not yet. This place, these people… it was a sanctuary to them both.

     “Don’t start without me!” Cullen called over his shoulder as he hurried into the nearby cellar.

     “I think we’ve officially made him a gambler”, Varric commented.

     They played another two rounds – both won by Josephine.

     “Deal again”, Cullen commanded after she had gathered her winnings from the last of these rounds. “I’ve figured out your tells, Lady Ambassador.”

     “Commander”, Josephine chided, “everyone knows a lady has no tells.”

     “Then let’s see if your fortune lasts one more hand”, Cullen challenged. Josephine seemed to fight to hide a smirk.

     “Well, I’m not losing any more coin to Josephine”, Lea said, pushing back slightly from the table, “but I have to see this.”

     “Let’s make it a bit more interesting then, Commander”, Josephine suggested. “For every card I win, you have to remove a bit of clothing. Just like the pour recruit you told us about earlier?”

     “And if I win the cards?”

     “Then I’ll do the same”, Josephine replied with a careless shrug. Everyone gaped at her – the Ambassador who always dressed in high necked, long sleeved blouses and dresses. Who never bared anything.

     “Deal”, Cullen said.

     For the next half hour, Lea and the others watched as the Commander was forced to remove one object of his clothing and armour after the other, while the only one that Josephine had to remove was her necklace. Lea was certain the Ambassador was making the round last longer, just to make a point to Cullen that regardless of how many cards they played, she would always win. Eventually, Cullen was seated in his chair in nothing but his underwear – and Josephine had won the round.

     “Don’t say a word, dwarf”, he growled at Varric, who was shaking with laughter.

     “I tried… to warn you, Curly!” the storyteller managed to utter.

     “Never bet against an Antivan, Commander”, Josephine chimed in.

     “Well, I’m leaving”, Cassandra said and rose. “I don’t want to witness our Commander’s walk of shame back to the barracks.”

     “Well, I do”, Dorian said with a grin and a wink in Lea’s direction. Cole mumbled something about the fact that he had not known that something came off – perhaps Cullen’s armour, which he always seemed to be wearing in public. Then people slowly started to head away, some (Dorian and Hawke) lingering a bit longer. Cullen shot a pleading look in Lea’s direction, to which her reply was a shake of her head that she hoped said _You brought this upon yourself_. But she did rise and usher the two men out of the room, giving Cullen the opportunity to rush out as well.

     “Well”, Varric said, taking up a stand in front of the fire illuminating the room, “I’m glad you decided to join us tonight. It’s too easy to mistake you for the Inquisitor.”

     Lea chuckled slightly.

     “I enjoyed it. Next time, I might actually win a round. If Josie lets me.”

     Varric laughed as well.

     “There is that. Look, it’s easy to forget you’re not just an icon or a symbol, like those statues of Andraste holding bowls of fire. At least it is for me.”

     “You know”, she sighed, “I think it is for me as well. This… it was just what I needed right now.”

     “So, another round when this is all over?”

     “Count on it.”

     A snore from Sera made them both look over at the now empty table. How the elf had been able to sleep through all the ruckus they had been making, Lea had no idea. But at least it meant there had been no cheating.

     She followed Varric back up the stairs and bid him goodnight, heading in the direction of her own quarters. The halls were void of people; even the servants seemed to have gone to bed. But it could not be that late already, could it?

     She shook her head and pushed the door open, headed up the first set of stairs, opened the next door and…

     Something thudded to the floor above the last set of stairs, the one that ended in her bedroom. She spun away from the door and looked up. At the top of the stairs stood Solas. There was a book at his feet – he must have dropped it – and he was staring at something. Or someone, as there was a voice cursing and apologizing over and over again.

     Cullen.

     For a moment, Lea considered turning. Running. Both of them were here. _Both_ of them. She could not do this. Not now. Not when the evening had worked out as it had. She wanted to go to bed – alone – and think of the games and laughter, not have to deal with her tangled feelings and Cullen’s scandalous proposition that…

     “ _Lethallin_.”

     She looked up again. Solas had turned towards her – and even from here, in this faint light, she could tell that his eyes had turned dark. Not with anger. The darker tint was the kind that made her knees buckle. Made her throat go dry.

     Solas reached out a hand towards her,

     “It seems we have things to discuss.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which I tried to cover a lot of cutscenes that I just did not want to leave out of this story. Hopefully it all still made sense to you. And... well, next chapter will be interesting. And difficult.


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Give it one night”, Cullen said. Lea turned towards him with a frown._   
>  _“What?”_   
>  _“One night”, he repeated. “Give us this night to prove that it can work. If it doesn’t – if you’re not comfortable… we’ll think of something else. Something that will make us all happy.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the long wait, but this was my first attempt at writing this sort of scene and I rewrote it quite a lot of times. Hope you all enjoy!

Her heart thundered in her chest as she slowly walked up the stairs, placing her hand in his. Solas held it as if they were a pair of dancers entering a ballroom floor and his thumb ran soothing circles across the back of her hand as he led her forward. Away from the stairs. She tore her gaze from him to take in the state of the room.

     It was dark, mainly illuminated by the light of the stars and the moon. There were glowing embers in the fireplace, asking to be stirred about to rekindle the fire, and a single lit candle on one of her bedside tables.

     Cullen stood next to said table – and even in this faint light she could see that his cheeks were bright red. He wore an undershirt and looked like he had been in the process of buckling on a pair of pants, as his hands were still on the belt in question, cinching it around his waist.

     Solas must have caught him dressing. And the reason why Cullen was dressing in here was that he had, most likely, kept a spare set of clothes in here. Lea actually felt quite certain the Commander had intended to leave before she arrived and caught him here.

     Or when Solas caught him.

     Which made her wonder what the man next to her had come here for.

     She opened her mouth to ask, but instead found herself tugged against the elf. Spun into him, like a dancer – though a fair deal less graceful. Had Solas not been ready to steady her, she would have tumbled straight into his chest. Now she still felt him there, just behind her back, the hand that had been holding her own now pinning her in place.

     “What…” she begun, then gasped as he moved half an inch closer. Letting something long and hard press against her rear. She shot a glance at Cullen. His eyes were glued to them, the gaze dark, predatory. He kept a nearly desperate grip on his belt, his chest was heaving, his lips were slightly parted. She felt a sudden urge to tease him; to lean back against Solas, bare her throat, beg him to…

     Jesus Christ, what was going on?

     Before anything else could happen, she wrenched free. Not that Solas put up much of a resistance; the moment she made the attempt, he let go and stepped back. Letting her march up to the balcony, throw the doors open and step outside. Gulp in the night air greedily.

     “This”, she said to herself, “is insane.”

     Every part of her that valued logic and reason above all else agreed. The rest… not so much. The rest wanted to go back inside, back to the two men who tore at her heart.

     “ _We could… try… all three of us._ ”

     In that instant, she wanted to. Some crazed part of her believed that if she walked back inside, if they had this night together – all three of them – then things would work out. No one would get hurt. It would be their own happily ever after.

     But that could not be right. Such relationships… in her head, they never worked. Someone would always get hurt. Most likely all of them would.

     “ _Vhenan_?”

     She closed her eyes and swallowed, not turning around to face Solas.

     “I apologize”, he said, his voice still soft. “I was mistaken.”

     “About what?” she asked. He did not respond at once.

     “Your desires.”

     Suddenly he was at her side, leaning against the railing just like she did, but putting some space between them.

     “What did you think I desired?” she asked. Solas held her gaze, then looked back inside the room. She did not dare do the same; in fact she looked in the opposite direction, out across Skyhold, across the mountains. The world.

     “Both of us”, was Solas’ answer.

     “I do.”

     She answered before she had fully considered what that answer might insinuate. Solas tensed next to her and she was certain she heard a soft gasp coming from behind her – from Cullen.

     “It’s insane”, she continued before either of them could move or speak. “This… this can’t possibly end well. It just can’t. It might seem like a good idea at first, but then it will end up hurting us. _All_ of us.”

     “It’s hurting us now”, Solas said. His voice was still so impossibly gentle, so impossibly patient. It was not the tone he used when teaching her some obscure piece of magic, but one she was not sure he had quite used with her ever before.

     It was the kind you used when talking to an animal who had been frightened of something. One used for soothing. For assurance. Promising safety and kindness and love.

     “I came to see if you were still awake”, he said, still using that same tone, “to discuss a piece of memory I plucked from the Fade that might have something to do with the Anchor.”

     He was speaking in a slightly roundabout way, she noticed. Most likely what he had wanted to discuss related to his true self – him being an ancient elf – which Cullen had no knowledge of.

     “Instead I found the Commander – and I do apologize for scaring you, _vheraan_.”

     Lea turned towards Solas with a frown at his use of elven. He, in turn, was looking back at Cullen. A glance over her shoulder proved that the blond man was standing in the doorway leading out onto the balcony. The redness had receded from his cheeks and he had fastened his belt properly, and he met Solas’ gaze steadily as the elf spoke, nodding slightly.

     For a moment, Lea had thought Solas had called Cullen the same thing he called her. _Vhenan_. But his word for Cullen was different. The way it was pronounced made it sound, in part, like a sound an animal might make. Like a growl or low roar.

     She wondered what it meant – and why it did not seem to faze Cullen. Why he did not react to being given a nickname by the elven mage.

     “That still does not explain this”, she said, looking out across Skyhold again. “Why you… pulled me in like that and…”

     She waved her hand in the air when the words failed her – and as she felt her cheeks start to burn.

     “It was the way you looked when you realized we were both there”, Solas replied, “and the fact that you murmured that one word upon taking my hand.”

     Lea turned towards him with a frown.

     “I didn’t say anything.”

     “I’m certain you did.”

     “I didn’t.”

     Now it was Solas’ turn to frown.

     “You didn’t?”

     “No”, she replied, “I didn’t say anything when taking your hand. I just took it.”

     The frown remained on Solas’ forehead as he studied her, grey eyes conveying just how confused this statement of hers made him.

     “I…”

     Cullen cleared his throat, then stepped out onto the balcony to stand on her other side.

     “I heard it as well”, he continued. “You said ‘finally’.”

     “I… what?” Lea asked him with a frown. In her head, she went over what had happened once again. Her walking in through the door, realizing that both Cullen and Solas were there, Solas turning towards her, extending his hand, her walking up and accepting it… she had not spoken a word, had she?

     Honestly, now that she thought about it, she was not sure. Her heart had been hammering hard enough for her thoughts to become distant voices – thus perhaps it had made it impossible for her to hear if she spoke a word

     But why that word? Why “finally”?

     Solas suddenly leaned in slightly closer.

     “I could also smell it on you, _vhenan_ ”, he murmured. “Your desire for both of us.”

     She jumped – and, to her surprise, Cullen let out a snorting laugh. Which made her turn to glare at him. He immediately fell silent, but a smirk remained.

     “Even if that’s true, my earlier statement still stands”, she said, turning away, intending to head back inside. “This will only hurt us.”

     A hand closed around her own right one, calloused fingers used to holding a sword.

     “Give it one night”, Cullen said. Lea turned towards him with a frown.

     “What?”

     “One night”, he repeated. “Give us this night to prove that it can work. If it doesn’t – if you’re not comfortable… we’ll think of something else. Something that will make us all happy.”

     She opened her mouth to argue, then closed it again, narrowing her eyes at both of them.

     “You two met up and discussed this earlier, didn’t you?”

     Cullen’s cheeks turned red, while Solas turned away. That was enough of an answer.

     And it seemed she was not getting rid of either of them easily. Not without forcibly throwing them out of her room, which she feared might hurt all of them even more.

     One night. Maybe…

     “This is insane”, she muttered again. Cullen took a tentative step closer to her, invading her personal space. She did not move away – and she was quite certain he let out a small, relieved breath at that.

     “One night”, he said once more. She looked up into those golden eyes – and realized that that was a mistake, because looking at him like that, taking in his full expression, made it impossible for her to say no. Instead, she nodded.

     A pair of slender hands took hold of her waist from behind and a set of lips brushed against the left side of her neck, causing her to let out a soft gasp. She had not noticed that Solas had moved from where he had been standing by the railing – that he had snuck up behind her, awaited her final decision, and when she had given it had not wasted any time. He radiated heat, making her wonder, for a brief moment, if he had shifted recently.

     Then Cullen’s calloused fingers ran up her arms. One hand strayed back to her right shoulder blade, while the other ran up her neck, close to where Solas was still laving it with kisses. Cullen guided her chin up and placed a tender kiss at the corner of her mouth, just as Solas moved up to tug on her earlobe with his teeth. She whimpered, moved instinctively to chase Cullen’s lips with her own and pushing her hips back against Solas. The elf breathed a low chuckle against her throat, while his hands tightened their grip on her waist. Holding her in place, flush against him.

     “We’re bound to get an audience if we continue like this”, he said, his voice just loud enough for them to hear, breath hot against Lea’s throat. For one, reckless second, she did not care. Having both of them so close, teasing her with kisses and light touches… all of Skyhold was welcome to watch what the two men had planned to do to her tonight, as long as they kept going.

     Then Solas’ grip softened somewhat. He took a small step back, letting cool air pass between them, and at the same time Cullen pulled back as well. It was enough to let some thoughts regarding consequences back into her brain. She was the Inquisitor – and though she did not doubt all of Skyhold would know of what had happened by tomorrow, it was probably not the best idea to have them see it. Better leave some of it up to imagination.

     “Shall we take this to the bed, then?” she asked, sounding a lot more coherent than she actually felt. Cullen smirked down at her, an expression she was certain Solas mimicked behind her back. Both of them knew her too well.

     “I think that would be wise.”

     The Commander of the Inquisition then took hold of her hand, just as its resident ancient elven god released her and stepped away. Cullen led her back inside, sat down on the bed and tugged her down onto his lap. One hand went up into her hair as he tugged her down for a searing kiss, while the other slid around her, pressed against the small of her back. Found its way in beneath her shirt.

     Wait, no, that was not Cullen’s hand. The fingers were too long – and there were too many of them. Solas. She trembled as his hands slid higher along her back, tugging her shirt up with them. Cullen broke the kiss at just the right time, letting the elf pull the piece of clothing up over her head. Goosebumps erupted all over her skin as it came into contact with both the night air and the gazes of her two lovers.

     And that was not a sentence she had ever expected to either think or utter, but here she was, doing exactly that.

     “Beautiful”, Solas murmured behind her, his fingers running across her skin. That was, however, all she could feel of him. Which was strange, because when he had spoken it had felt as if he was right there, next to her ear. Cullen suddenly chuckled, his lips brushing against her collarbone.

     “Do you want to turn around?”

     “Yes”, she managed to reply. He supported her as she rose and turned, then pulled her back down to straddle his legs. His lips brushed along her shoulders, behind her neck, sweeping her hair to the side while she blinked and tried to understand how the hell Solas could be leaning against the door leading onto the balcony, smirking, silver eyes gleaming in the darkness.

     “I will utilize what I can too please you, _vhenan_ ”, he said, then moved closer to them, his gait predatory. Her eyes widened slightly when her brain finally caught up, as she realized he had used the Fade, creating a pair of extra hands to get her shirt off.

     “Trickster”, she breathed. Solas grinned down at her, standing with one leg on either side of Cullen’s knees. Then he bent down and claimed her lips in a short kiss that ended in a tug with his teeth on her lower lip, making her gasp again.

     “Only for you”, he murmured, before pulling back up again. Behind her, Cullen groaned, his grip on her hips tightening slightly.

     “I prefer your actual hands”, Lea quipped, giving Solas what she hoped was a challenging look. His eyes darkened a shade or two, and even though he now had his hands placed behind his back – as per usual – she could see in the way his upper arms tensed that he was clenching them. If it was a game of words he wanted, she was – at least for now – prepared to meet him head on. She could not say for sure if that would last very long though, especially since Cullen’s every move made his cock press harder and harder against her back, teasing her in a different manner.

     “And what else do you prefer, _vhenan_?” Solas asked, his voice coming out in a husky rasp that sent a tremor through her body – and made Cullen curse as she pressed back against him.

     “I’d prefer”, she replied, lifting a hand and trailing it up Solas’ abdomen, “if you both stopped teasing me and got those clothes of yours off.”

     Solas closed his eyes, a growl rumbling through his chest. Behind her, Cullen made a similar sound.

     “Your wish is our command”, the Commander breathed against her neck, before promptly lifting her off his lap and tossing her onto the bed, making her let out a slight scream of surprise. She landed on her stomach, the air whooshing out of her lungs in a gasp, but she did not allow herself the time to recover. Instead she flipped onto her back, just as Solas pulled his tunic over his head. She vaguely noticed the clattering sound it made as it fell to the floor, having pulled his wolf jaw necklace along, but her focus was on him.

     She had seen him bare-chested before. Hell, she had _slept_ next to him while he was half undressed. But that was before this whole roller-coaster of feelings took off. Before she found that she desperately wanted to run her hands, her lips, her tongue along his skin.

     Then her eyes were drawn to Cullen, standing a few feet away from Solas, pulling off the shirt he had only recently put on. It did not matter that she had seen him in this state earlier as well – had slept with him, made love to him, touched those hard muscles that were now faintly illuminated by the light of the dying fire and the stars outside. The sight still made her lick her lips in anticipation.

     Then, as one, both men removed their trousers and underwear as well. Baring themselves to her. Her mind flashed back to her first night with Cullen, in his tower, when he had done a similar manoeuvre – baring himself before fully undressing her. Now, however, there was Solas in the mix as well. And for some strange reason, that felt right. Perfect.

     They continued to move in sync, the elven mage and the former Templar, walking to either side of the bed, crawling onto it and bare skin to tease with kisses and bites. Solas used magic to slice through the bindings around her chest, hastily removing the offending object so that he could suck one nipple into his mouth. Moments later, Cullen’s mouth found the other. She bit down on her lip hard enough to draw blood in order not to scream loud enough for all of Skyhold to come running. Solas was there in an instant, healing the bite marks with a gentle swipe of his thumb before pressing their lips together in a heated kiss, while Cullen’s lips moved down. Across her stomach. His tongue came out briefly to lick at the edge of her trousers, while his fingers set to undoing them. The moment they were loose he tugged them down to her ankles, then settled himself between her legs.

     Well, she had asked them to stop teasing.

     “You are so beautiful, _vhenan_ ”, Solas murmured against her lips, diving in for another kiss amidst her thrashing. She moaned into his mouth as Cullen’s tongue pushed into her.

     She felt like she was flying and crashing at the same time. Burning and freezing. Floating and drowning. But, above all, she felt alive.

     “Solas…”

     Cullen’s raspy voice seemed to reverberate all around her as the Commander pulled back slightly, giving her a few moments to breathe. Not that she got much air down into her lungs; not with both of them still there, right next to her, skin to skin. Solas let out a low chuckle, pressed a swift kiss to her shoulder, and then the two of them seemed to switch positions. Cullen moved up, Solas down. Lea forced herself to open her eyes and meet the Commander’s golden gaze. He smirked down at her, brushed her hair back and gave her a gentle kiss. She groaned at the way he tasted.

     “Is this to your liking so far, my lady?” he whispered against her lips as he pulled back. She was unable to answer – her brain had officially lost the battle against her body’s primal wishes and no longer had the capability of connecting letters into words. After some struggling, though, she did manage to nod – a gesture that earned a low chuckle from Cullen.

     “Good”, he murmured against her neck. At the same time, Solas licked along her slit, causing her to cry out. The elf was more forceful when pleasing her with his mouth than Cullen had been, lapping and sucking as if he wanted to eat her. The wolf in him had come out to play – and something in her responded. Keeping her cries silent became impossible, even with Cullen swallowing half of them down with kisses, but she was too far gone to care. All she did care about was the way Solas lips and tongue moved between her legs, combined with how Cullen kissed, bit and licked at every sensitive spot he could find from her chest and up. One of her hands wound into Cullen’s hair, while the other reached down for Solas. Her fingers brushed one of his ears, earning a growl that went straight into her, before he grabbed hold of her hand with one of his own.

     And then she was truly crashing.

     Other than the haze of pleasure, wave after wave of intense heat rolling through her body, she could not remember what had happened. Not if she had screamed anything, had arched her back, if her toes had curled – none of the things you read about in novels. It was like passing out, while still being fully awake – unable to recall just what had happened, but also knowing that it was, quite possibly, the best feeling you had ever had.

     Which was not exactly passing out, but it was the closest comparison she could do once her brain caught on again. When the heat faded enough for her to take in her surroundings, feel Cullen place a tender kiss on her brow while Solas crawled back up to lie on the other side of her. There was a silent question in his silver eyes, one she saw mirrored in Cullen’s golden ones when the Commander pulled back enough for her to look at him.

     Had she liked it?

     Honestly, they were both idiots if they thought she had not. That had been…

     She frowned. All they had done was please her, and the way they lay next to her now made it impossible for her not to notice that they were both fully erect, yet neither seemed inclined to do something about it. And some part of her – an ever growing part – felt like that was wrong. If one of them found pleasure like she had, then the others should as well.

     And, apparently, she had already started thinking of the three of them as a thing. As something permanent – all previous arguments against it be damned. There was something primal in her approving of that decision, overriding and erasing logic and worry for the future and instead insisting that this was meant to be. It was right.

     And she wanted them both.

     Solas was the first to notice, his eyebrows rising slightly as he, without a doubt, smelled her becoming aroused again.

     “ _Vhenan_ …” he begun, a warning in his voice. Before he could continue, she had moved onto Cullen, who gaped up at her in surprise – only to then throw his head back with a cry of pleasure as she sank down on top of him. Lea looked back over at Solas, giving him a challenging look.

     “Are you going to join us?” she asked. Her voice had taken on a sudden deeper, sultrier tone – one she almost wished to accompany with a beckoning finger. The elven mage, however, did not need such encouragement. His eyes darkened and he bared his teeth in a low, primal growl, before pushing himself up off the mattress and moving in behind her.

     “You don’t know what you’re asking for, _vhenan_ ”, he growled in her ear, while his hands took hold of her hips. Pressed himself close. He was burning, ancient magic rolling off of him in thick waves. Cullen’s remaining Templar abilities must be blocking them enough to keep him from shifting, or setting something on fire.

     “You’ve got tonight to prove this arrangement to me”, Lea told him, turning her head slightly in order to catch his lips in a swift kiss. “I’m still not convinced.”

     Beneath her, Cullen chuckled.

     “I believe we have been played”, he said, his hands going up her thighs, past Solas’ hands, up her back. Pulling her down. He let out a soft groan as her moving caused him to move slightly inside of her. Solas growled behind her, his grip tightening to the point of bruising, before he let one of his hands slide back onto her rear.

     “Have we, now?” he asked, his voice a deep chuckle of his own. Triumphant.

     She did not have time to respond before one of his fingers breached her.

* * *

Dawn came too quickly. When Lea woke, her head was pounding from both lack of sleep and having had quite a few drinks the night before, causing her to groan and turn into the body melded to her left side, seeking a way to avoid the light coming in through the windows. The body’s owner sighed and wrapped an arm around her waist, while the other – which she had been sleeping on – stretched out. Searching for something – someone – meant to be on the other side of her. Moments later that someone responded, moved closer, and the one she had snuggled into relaxed. Went back to sleep.

     The one on her right side pressed a soft kiss to the back of her neck.

     “Good morning, _vhenan_ ”, he whispered, his voice hoarse. She smiled and turned slightly, squinted in the early morning light. Solas looked down at her, a tender smile on his lips. He seemed impossibly relaxed, at peace, though that was sort of how she also felt.

     “Good morning”, she whispered back, reaching for him, pulling him down for a kiss. He sighed into it, before settling down behind her once more. One of his hands moved into her hair, brushing through the tangles, while the other reached for Cullen’s outstretched hand. Tentatively taking hold of it. In his sleep, Cullen sighed contentedly, while also tightening his grip on Lea’s waist.

     “This is… strange”, she commented, “but a good strange.”

     “Did we manage to convince you, then?” Solas asked, a smile evident in his tone.

     “Why ask questions you already know the answers for?” she asked in turn. He chuckled.

     “Because I want to hear you say it. I believe we both would.”

     He pulled his hand back from Cullen and, moments later, the Commander blinked awake, muttering a curse at the light.

     “Good morning to you, too”, Lea said, pressing a kiss to his jaw. He swiftly bent down to fully claim her lips.

     “Well?” he asked as he broke it, his lips still ghosting against her skin.

     “You two are insufferable”, she replied. Solas chuckled and placed a kiss on her neck.

     “Should we leave you to think alone?” he asked. Lea was silent long enough for both of them to pull back, frowning, wondering if perhaps she was still going to say no. She sat up with a dramatic sigh, enjoying the situation.

     “Actually”, she said, “I was thinking of never letting either of you leave again.”

     Cullen tugged her back down, but instead of assaulting her with kisses, him and Solas seemed to decide that it was better to go for another kind of punishment for making them doubt. Meaning they started to tickle her until she could hardly breathe.

     “Then it’s the three of us now”, Cullen said once she had managed to calm down again.

     “I have a feeling Lady Montilyet is going to have a field day”, Solas mused.

     “We’ll handle it”, Lea said, letting her hands take hold of theirs. “Like you said, Cullen; it’s the three of us now. Together. All for one and one for all. The Three Musketeers.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have never fretted so much over a love scene. Hopefully you all found it to your liking - as stated in the notes above I've never written a scene with a threesome before, so I've actually gone around and read a ton of them here on AO3 and then I had to write one in my own way. Which was tough. But I'm pleased with how this actually turned out and I hope you all liked it as well!


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“This is from Blackwall, isn’t it?” she asked, looking up at Leliana again. The spymaster nodded._   
>  _“The report was among the ones on the war table yesterday. I noticed it was gone later in the night. One of my agents found it this morning, in the stables. The letter was next to it – and Blackwall was gone, along with his horse.”_   
>  _“So he swiped the report?” Cullen asked, frowning. “That does not sound like him.”_   
>  _“None of this sounds like him”, Lea corrected, handing the report and the letter to Solas. “Does anything in his past correlate with the massacre?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _*digs her way out of hiatus*_  
>  Hello! Information about why this chapter took so long is in the end notes - hope you all enjoy!

It was difficult leaving the bed that morning – and even more difficult walking downstairs and not look like she had spent the night sandwiched between two men. A part of her reasoned that it did not matter. People already knew – and if she acted like the gossip of servants, visiting nobles and soldiers with nothing better to do mattered, she would start to question things. Again. And she did not want to.

     It was like being addicted to something, she guessed, because no matter what she did or who she spoke to during that day, her mind would always start to drift back to that night of theirs. And then her eyes would start to search for the two who had been there with her. Even while she was in Josephine’s office, speaking to the ambassador about the day-trip they had planned to take to a see an Orlesian noble. Logically, her mind knew that neither Cullen or Solas were there – and yet her eyes still searched for them.

     “Is everything alright?” Josephine asked, drawing Lea’s attention again.

     “Yes, of course, fine, perfectly fine.”

     Josephine raised her eyebrows ever so slightly.

     “Is this about what happened between you, Cullen and Solas last night?” the ambassador asked. Lea swallowed. She had, honestly, expected Josephine to bring that up earlier. Maybe Cullen had been here to see her already.

     “Do not look so frightened, Inquisitor”, Josephine said with a smile. “Engaging in sexual relationships with multiple partners is quite common at court – and in most places such stories are told like grand adventures.”

     “What if it’s just not sex, then?” Lea asked. Josephine’s smile was replaced with a frown.

     “What do you mean?”

     Lea leaned forward.

     “I don’t think what’s happening between me, Cullen and Solas is something that simply… spices things up. I think it’s something more – something that might have an impact on what we’re trying to do here.”

     When Josephine did not reply, Lea sighed and looked down at her hands. Her fingers were tapping a random rhythm on her knees. She was antsy today, as if she had consumed a life’s worth of energy drinks. Strange, that; she should be tired after last night. Shaking her head, she rose, intending to leave.

     “I don’t know how it will, but as our ambassador… there might be a big old mess heading this way.”

     “Bigger than the one we’re already facing?” Josephine asked with a hint of a smile. “I think not.”

     The ambassador rose as well and walked around her desk.

     “We will handle this”, she promised. “Together. Like we always do.”

     Lea managed a smile, before she gave Josephine a hug.

     “Oh, by the way”, she said before walking out through the door. “Teach me to play Wicked Grace like an Antivan someday, would you?”

     Josephine burst out laughing.

     “I think I can manage to teach you a few tricks, Inquisitor.”

* * *

The next two days passed the same way. No one really commented on what went on during the nights up in the Inquisitor’s quarters, and during the days Lea struggled with focusing. There was much to be done at Skyhold; they had a lead on where Corypheus was sending his forces and now they needed to gather their own army once again. Soldiers and supplies came in daily, scout reports arrived via ravens and were deciphered by Leliana, and they scheduled a war council for their third evening back at Skyhold.

     No rest for the wicked.

     At dinner that night, Cullen was not present. Lea found herself staring at his empty chair, before looking up and seeing Solas do the same, a frown wrinkling his forehead. Neither of them had more than poked at their food. The elf looked up and met her gaze, then rose from his chair. She did the same and, without saying another word, they both left the hall.

     “It’s not the lyrium”, Solas said once they were in the rotunda, aiming for the door leading them out to the walkway between this tower and Cullen’s.

     “How do you know that?” Lea asked. Solas did not reply – and Lea noticed that the frown had stayed on his forehead this whole time. It was the kind of frown he always pulled when he truly did not know the answer – and it vexed him.

     Cullen’s tower seemed empty at first, but then they both heard the sound of grunts and groans from the second floor. Lea walked over to the ladder and peered up.

     “Cullen?” she called. The sounds stopped.

     “I’m here”, he replied after a beat. He sounded out of breath, like he had been running a marathon.

     “I’ll be down shortly.”

     Lea and Solas exchanged glances, then stepped back from the ladder. While waiting for the commander, Lea noticed that Solas was restless, unable to stay in one place for too long. Instead he walked between the bookshelf and the window, hands on his back, fingers always moving.

     When Cullen came down, he looked like he had just taken a bath. His hair lay plastered to his head – except for a few stray curls – and the moisture seeped through his shirt.

     “You missed dinner”, Lea said when no one else seemed inclined to speak.

     “Oh”, Cullen said, glancing out through one of the windows. “It’s that late already?”

     “What were you doing?”

     Cullen met her gaze, then looked at Solas, and then slumped down in a chair with a sigh. His right foot immediately started tapping its heel on the floor.

     “I can’t stop”, he admitted when he saw them looking. “It’s…”

     “Always there”, Solas filled in. Cullen looked up at him.

     “I think we’re all experiencing it”, the elf said. “Working has been far from easy these past few days.”

     “So what is it?” Lea asked. “Why are we experiencing it? And why are we not displaying these signs of restlessness when we’re…”

     She fell silent, a blush creeping up her cheeks.

     “If I had not just completed a three-hour training session, I’d say us being together lets out whatever this excess energy is”, Cullen said, his cheeks also a shade redder.

     “It is not a phenomenon I’m familiar with”, Solas replied. “Perhaps with a bit of research, we can figure it out. However, I must admit I feel it less now that the three of us are in the same space.”

     Lea nodded. Her own ticks had slowly started to fade soon after Cullen sat down in his chair.

     “We’ll keep an eye out for what happens these upcoming few days”, she said. “If it gets worse, we’ll have to figure out a workable solution – other than us being in the same place at all times.”

     Solas’ lips curved upwards.

     “Why wouldn’t that be a workable solution, _vhenan_?” he asked, causing her to blush again. Cullen chuckled.

     “We’ll figure it out together”, he agreed and rose. “What was it you called us? The Three Muses?”

     “Musketeers”, Lea corrected, while trying not to burst out laughing. “Now come on, you two. The others are probably already in the war room.”

     Despite everything that was going on, Cullen entering the war room without his armour on was probably the strangest thing the others attending the meeting had ever seen. Sure, he had put on his regular coat and even his sword, but there had been no time for the rest. Sera looked like she wanted to make a joke about it instantly – but Dorian stepped in before she could.

     “Good of you three to finally show up. I have quite a lot of work left to do today, so I’d like to be done with this meeting quickly.”

     Lea smiled at him, then took her place at the table.

     “I assume Morrigan has briefed you all about the powers of the _eluvian_?” she asked. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Solas tense. He had not been briefed – and she had not told him of the _eluvian_ Morrigan had been repairing. But he must know what the objects were. They were ancient – and he was ancient.

     “If Corypheus manages to use the _eluvian_ to enter the Fade, what happens next?” Cullen asked, eyeing the witch.

     “Why, he will gain his heart’s desire”, Morrigan replied, “and take the power of a god. Or…”

     She turned towards Lea instead.

     “The lunatic will unleash forces that tear the world apart.”

     “We can allow neither of those things”, Lea said with a nod.

     “If he does succeed, you’d likely be the first to be struck down by the madman”, Dorian muttered.

     “Does this mean everything is lost unless we get to the _eluvian_ before him?” Cassandra asked. Silence fell over the table as eyes turned to the figurines on the map. The ones marking the last known location of Corypheus’ forces were on the northern edge of the Emerald Graves – and judging by the latest scouts reports they were still on the move. Towards the Arbor Wilds further south. At least now the forest was slowing them down.

     “Corypheus has a head start, no matter how quickly we make our forces move”, Cullen said.

     “Which is why we should use that time to gather our allies before we march”, Josephine filled in.

     “I’m not sure we can wait for them”, Leliana argued. “We should send our spies further ahead.”

     “Without the support of our soldiers?” Cullen asked, sounding incredulous. Leliana winced, but the face was barely visible beneath her purple hood. Lea knew what that wince was for. It might have been months since Haven, but the spymaster was still conflicted regarding if pulling her forces back had been the right move. Now she was pushing for the opposite – and might lose more of them in the process.

     “Then what should we do?” Josephine asked, flinging her arms up in the air.

     “For starters, we don’t let Corypheus worry us to death”, Lea replied. Varric hummed in agreement.

     “Imagine how embarrassing that would be”, he said with a smile. Lea returned it, then pointed at the figurines on the map.

     “We do what we do best”, she said. “We work together – as a team.”

     She lifted one figurine marked with a pair of keys – Josephine’s symbol.

     “Ask our allies to send scouts”, she said, before placing the object back down onto the map. “Have them meet up with Leliana’s agents. Their task will be to slow Corypheus down long enough for the rest of our forces to get there.”

     To her surprise, Morrigan laughed. Lea turned towards the witch with a frown, which made the other woman stop laughing and instead clear her throat.

     “The Arbor Wilds are not so kind to visitors”, she said. “Old elven magic lingers in those woods.”

     _Well, good thing I have an ancient elven lover_ , Lea felt like biting back. Fortunately, Josephine was faster.

     “We’d be remiss not to take advantage of your knowledge, Lady Morrigan. Please, lend us your expertise.”

     Morrigan smiled at the ambassador’s words.

     “’tis why I came here, although it is good to see its value recognized.”

     “Josephine and I will head to Jader in two days, as previously discussed”, Lea said and straightened up. “We should be back by nightfall. Everyone else should continue to prepare; we’ll march south as soon as possible.”

     People rose from chairs or simply walked out of the room, ready to return to their other duties. Solas also took his leave.

     “While I still have the ability to focus, I should get some research done”, he said. He sounded tense; something in what had just happened had vexed him. Lea hoped he was not too angry about her not telling him of the _eluvian_.

     She turned towards Cullen and found him eyeing Solas’ disappearing form. When she touched his arm, he seemed to wake up from a daydream.

     “Let’s get you something to eat”, she said. Together, they headed down to the kitchens and got Cullen a plate of food. The cook insisted she also have some – most likely the servants had reported that she had not eaten a thing at dinner. Before they left, the woman forced a third plate into their hands.

     “For that elven mage friend of yours. Heard he’d been eating too little.”

     Lea smiled and accepted the plate, then led the way up to her quarters to allow them some privacy. While eating, she saw Cullen’s eyes grow distant once more.

     “What’s wrong?” she asked and touched his arm again.

     “Sorry?”

     “Cullen, is something wrong?” Lea rephrased. The commander winced, then turned his attention to his food once more. She waited.

     “I don’t think I ever told you I…”

     He fell silent again, a blush tinting his cheeks.

     “Back when I was assigned to Kinloch Hold”, he eventually continued, “I… there was…”

     “Is this when you tell me of a past lover of yours?” Lea asked. Cullen’s blush deepened.

     “This is not as easy as I thought it would be.”

     “What was her name?”

     “I… it wasn’t…”

     The door at the bottom of the stairs opened and Cullen’s mouth snapped shut, his gaze dropping back to his plate of food. Lea narrowed her eyes slightly, then turned around to face Solas as he ascended the stairs. He looked like he was still deep in thought.

     “You finished up quickly”, she said and rose. Solas offered a small smile, before pressing a kiss to her forehead.

     “I did not finish”, he said, lips still touching her skin. “I decided that it could wait until tomorrow.”

     Lea turned her face up to his with a smile.

     “Well, you’re lucky we saved you some food.”

     She guided him to the table and placed him on the chair she had previously occupied. As he started to eat from the extra plate they had brought up, Lea headed towards the balcony, leaning against the open door and looking out at the sunset. Behind her, Solas and Cullen soon begun talking, discussing the upcoming mission. The tension in the air slowly seeped away, replaced by the usual comfort they shared when it was just the three of them. Her mind soon drifted to what they might find in the Arbor Wilds. Solas had not spoken about it – not even when the two of them had been alone in the rotunda – which made her think he did not quite know, either.

     “What’s on your mind?”

     Cullen’s arms encircled her from behind and he pressed a kiss to her ear.

     “Inquisitor stuff”, Lea sighed, leaning into his embrace. “I wish we didn’t have to leave again so soon.”

     “I think both me and the commander wish the same”, Solas said as he came up next to them. Lea turned to look at him and felt Cullen tense. Glancing back up at him, she noticed that he looked… torn. A feeling she could understand; they were supposed to be the Three Musketeers, able to do anything together, yet right now Solas looked like an outsider. Gently she untangled herself from Cullen’s arms and instead took up a position between the two of them, wrapping an arm around each of their waists.

     “We still have a few days”, she said, “and once we’ve dealt with Corypheus in the Arbor Wilds…”

     Her voice drifted off once she realized she truly did not know what would happen next.

     “We’ll take the future together”, she eventually filled in.

     “I think that is the best we can hope for”, Solas agreed. Then he turned his head and looked at something over his shoulder – and smiled. Lea frowned at him, then followed his gaze. A gasp escaped her, causing Cullen to turn around as well.

     “I thought we needed an escape”, Solas said, still smiling at the shock on both of their faces. He then walked ahead of them back in through the doors, which now did not lead to her bedroom, but a forest lake illuminated by moonlight.

     “This is the Fade”, Cullen breathed. “When did we get here?”

     Solas simply smiled at him, then walked ahead to the lake. Lea followed, knelt down and placed her hand in the water to test the temperature. It was warm, like a hot spring.

     “This is amazing”, she said, then sat down properly to remove her boots. Without any thought of her two companions, she then discarded the rest of her clothes and dove in. The water caressed her skin like a warm embrace, easing tensions in her muscles that she had not even noticed before. She resurfaced with a gasp, shook the water from her eyes and turned to look at the shore again. The eyes of both men were glued to her – and their trousers looked quite uncomfortable. A shiver of anticipation ran down Lea’s spine and she felt herself smiling.

     “Come on in, boys, the water’s great”, she called.

     As it sometimes was with these Fade dreams, glimpses of it fell away – and the next moment both Cullen and Solas were in the water with her, surrounding her, mouths seeking skin. She leaned back against Cullen’s shoulder and he immediately dipped his head to nip at her throat, a motion Solas mimicked from the front. Even through the lust, Lea was able to make out how close the two were moving to one another – and that somehow made this even better. She angled her head slightly and somehow felt how Cullen’s nose brushed against Solas’ cheek. Neither pulled away. In fact, Solas reacted by moving one hand from her waist back to Cullen, pulling them both closer. Cullen groaned.

     “Maker, I won’t last long tonight.”

     “Then why stall?” Lea asked, turning her head enough to kiss him. As she did, she felt Solas nudge her legs apart beneath the water.

     “A good question”, he murmured against her skin, then slowly slid into her. Moments later, Cullen followed, his entry from behind slower. Christ, she loved feeling like this. Full. Complete.

     Despite Cullen’s warning, Solas set up a slow pace – and let one of his hands remain on Cullen at all times. A few strokes in, Cullen moved one of his hands to mimic the motion, causing Solas to growl against Lea’s throat.

     “ _Ma sal’shiral_ ”, he said through gritted teeth, angling his hips beneath the water just so. Lea whimpered and Cullen cursed, increasing his pace. A short time later they came together in the warm water – and it was lucky they were in the Fade, where the laws of physics were different, or they would have sunk right to the bottom of the lake by then.

     Lea blinked and found herself back in her quarters, fully dressed and resting on one of the rugs near the door to the balcony. Cullen and Solas were to either side of her, both looking as exhausted as she felt. Exhausted in a good way.

     “Let us remember that trick for when we’re on a journey somewhere”, Lea suggested, causing Cullen to burst out laughing.

     “Going to the Arbor Wilds suddenly sounds very promising.”

     A dark shadow flitted over Solas’ face, accompanied by a concerned frown. Lea reached out to brush her fingers against it. He turned his face into her hand and kissed her palm.

     “It will be alright”, he assured her – and himself. But the frown remained. Something about the Arbor Wilds – and the ancient ruins there – did not sit well with him.

     “We need to rest”, Cullen said after a few beats of silence. “Tomorrow will be a busy day.”

     “ _Another_ busy day”, Lea corrected with a sigh, but got to her feet and moved back into the room. The two men followed. Together they helped each other undress, before crawling down beneath the covers, tangling in one another’s limbs until it was impossible to tell where one of them begun and another ended. Lea sighed contentedly into Solas’ chest and felt him dip his head to press a kiss to the top of her head – and then she drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

* * *

The next morning, they woke to an insistent knock on the door at the bottom of the stairs. Cullen was the first to react – the soldier in him forcing him to his feet – and dressed enough to be presentable before heading down.

     “Leliana?” the other two heard him say as he opened the door. “The Inquisitor is… Leliana!”

     Steps sounded up the stairs. Solas tensed next to Lea, then pulled them both up into a sitting position, placing the thick blankets so that they were both covered. Lastly, he placed an arm around her waist beneath the covers, just before Leliana appeared at the top of the stairs.

     The spymaster looked pale this morning, Lea noted, which was far from a good sign.

     “Leliana…” Cullen tried again behind her, but the redhead shot him a glare.

     “Your arrangement is not a secret from me, Commander”, she said, “and this cannot wait.”

     She then pulled two pieces of parchment from her pocket and handed them to Lea. The first was crumpled and torn, but bore the resemblance of one of Leliana’s scout reports.

* * *

  _Lieutenant Cyril Mornay, one of the soldiers responsible for the Callier Massacre of 9:37, was captured in Jader. Like the others who were arrested for their involvement, Mornay insists that he did not know who he was assassinating, and that he was just following the orders of his captain. This captain, Thom Rainier, is still at large. Mornay is to be executed within the week in Jader._

* * *

     “What’s the Callier Massacre?” Lea asked, eyeing Leliana and Cullen in particular. Cullen sighed and sat down at the edge of the bed.

     “Lord Callier was an ally of Empress Celene”, he explained. “He was on a journey with his wife and children when he was attacked by soldiers wearing Gaspard’s colors. A servant was the only one who escaped the slaughter and reported the incident. After some research it was revealed that the group of soldiers attacking Callier were under the command of a captain named Thom Rainier, and that he in turn had received his orders from Gaspard’s ally Ser Robert Chapuis. When word got out and Gaspard openly disavowed their actions, Chapuis committed suicide and Rainier disappeared. His men have been tracked down one by one, though, and all have been sentenced to a traitor’s death.”

     “So why am I being shown this now?” Lea asked and looked at Leliana instead. The spymaster gestured at the notes.

     “Read the second one.”

     Frowning, Lea unfolded the second piece of parchment. It contained a short letter, addressed to her.

* * *

  _Inquisitor,_

_You’ve been a friend and an inspiration. You’ve given me the wisdom to know right from wrong and, more importantly, the courage to uphold the former._

_It’s been my honor to serve you._

* * *

     There was no name of a sender, but the choice of words… there was really only one member of her Inner Circle who would use such phrases, other than Cullen.

     “This is from Blackwall, isn’t it?” she asked, looking up at Leliana again. The spymaster nodded.

     “The report was among the ones on the war table yesterday. I noticed it was gone later in the night. One of my agents found it this morning, in the stables. The letter was next to it – and Blackwall was gone, along with his horse.”

     “So he swiped the report?” Cullen asked, frowning. “That does not sound like him.”

     “None of this sounds like him”, Lea corrected, handing the report and the letter to Solas. “Does anything in his past correlate with the massacre?”

     “Nothing that we know of”, Leliana replied, “but as a wandering recruiter for the Grey Wardens, there are a lot of lose ends in his past. We do not know of every place he has ever been in.”

     “Could he know the man they’ve caught?” Lea asked. “This… Cyril Mornay?”

     “It is possible”, Solas agreed, after having read through the notes, “but perhaps the answer is even simpler. Isn’t that right, Lady Nightingale?”

     Lea frowned at him, then turned back towards Leliana. The spymaster crossed her arms over her chest in a protective manner before she replied.

     “Thom Rainier has not been seen or heard of by any of my agents since the massacre. Even in hiding, we should have been able to find traces of him – or whatever identity he has assumed now. Blackwall is a wandering Warden, isolated from the dealings of the rest of the Order – and, strangely, he did not seem affected by the Calling, as they were.”

     As the words and their hidden meaning sunk in, Lea inhaled sharply. Cullen cursed and got back onto his feet.

     “Are you saying that Blackwall _is_ Thom Rainier?” he demanded to know.

     “It is a possibility”, Leliana replied.

     “Blackwall’s letter indicates a will to atone for something”, Solas said. “Perhaps he wishes to…”

     “Take Mornay’s place”, Lea finished. She looked between the others in the room, eventually settling on Leliana.

     “It says the execution is in Jader sometime this week. Do we know exactly when?”

     “I’ve sent a raven to my agents in the city”, the spymaster replied. “They will send a raven back the moment they find out. It should be very soon, though; possibly tomorrow, while you and Josie are there.”

     “We should leave early if that is the case”, Lea said. “I’ll talk with Josephine about it directly after breakfast. I also want every piece of information on Thom Rainier we can find.”

     “I’ll have it on your desk by midday”, Leliana promised, then took her leave. Once the door closed below the stairs, Lea fell back against the pillows with a groan.

     “No rest for the wicked”, she muttered, rubbing her face with her hands. Solas placed a soft kiss on her shoulder and she felt Cullen move closer, until he was able to pull her against him – and, indirectly, also pull Solas to him, as Solas was still holding on to her waist.

     “Do you want us to be there when you read through what Leliana’s found?” Cullen asked. She nodded.

     “I’d appreciate that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, so, it's been about half a year since I last posted anything for this story. I have no intention of quitting - haven't had throughout that whole time - but things have been seriously busy, both with work and personally. The summer holidays passed in a blur and I felt like I got nothing done except relaxing, which was good, but I definitely did not read or write as much as I usually do. I guess last year's work really took a toll on me and I just had to take a break.  
> Good thing, though: I got a cat! Her name is Princess Leia and she's a British Shorthair, and at the moment I really do not know where I'd be without her. She's always around to check up on me and make sure I'm not feeling down.  
> Why I'm feeling down? Well, that's the bad thing. About a month ago now, I lost my grandfather. It was very sudden - he collapsed in the shower and was beyond saving in 5 minutes. He did have heart troubles, but it was not noticeable; he was always out and about, working in the garden or in the forest. So it was a big shock for me and my family. I haven't really felt up to anything since then, but at the funeral last week I was actually reminded of the fact that my grandfather was "the wordsmith" of the family before me. Not in the sense that he liked to write stories, but he loved words and languages, always did crosswords and read a lot of books. So I felt like I should try and get back to writing in honor of him. And it's felt really great, honestly, but I'm definitely not back to writing at the speed that I used to write - or have the idea spurts that I used to have. But it's something.  
> During this tough period I also got back into playing DA:I. I started a new playthrough late summer with an elven rogue Inquisitor (Solas-romance) and I'm really enjoying it. Rogues are definitely my favourites to play! So at the moment I'm actually right where this story is and I'm hoping to get further inspiration to write through playing this next section of the game.  
> So that's what's been going on! Thank you all for sticking with this story and I hope you'll like where it's going next, because I can't wait to write these next sections and I especially cannot wait until I can start to write out the _Trespasser_ bits! :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments, kudos, bookmarks and subscribes are, as always, absolutely amazing to see!


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